Batman & Resident Evil: The Gotham Protocol
by Darth Yoshi
Summary: There are zombies in Gotham City and Batman ain't none too happy about it!
1. Chapter 1

Batman/Resident Evil: The Gotham Protocol

Chapter 1

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil™ is a registered product of Capcom Inc./Batman™ is a registered product of DC Comics Inc. Neither of these properties is used here with permission. This original story idea is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

The moon hung watch over Gotham harbor, but raised no alarm when two figures silently climbed over the side of the cargo freighter _Fading Sun_. The ship, registered in the Bahamas, but possessing a crew compromised of nearly all Quraci sailors, none of whom were using their real identities. From the captain down to the lowliest boiler room flunky, they all had passports that listed them as coming from a variety of Middle Eastern countries. 

Not that being from Qurac meant that you were immediately a criminal. In fact, they were a people with a devastated homeland after a terrorist had set off a nuclear bomb in their country. The problem with many Quraci citizens abroad was that they blamed they rest of the world for what happened to their nation and the more right-wing thinkers were always looking for a way to even the score.

The _Fading Sun_ was a small freighter, 35000 tons with rust in all of the right places. Officially, she was nearly thirty years old, manufactured in Britain originally. There was no record of the upgrades that had been made to her over the years, but of course many ships had some sort of illegal modifications here and there. Even the most honest captain could be bribed at some point to carry something.

So it was that one of the figures, crouched down behind some crates while the other took point, found himself scratching his head. "These damn schematics do not match the configuration," he said silently.

His guardian only nodded. The crouched figure reached up to his eyes and manually adjusted the lenses in the mask covering his youthful face. He had a strong, pronounced jaw line and his skin color showed just a hint of gypsy blood. On the other hand, his companion was red-haired and pale-skinned, as Caucasian as it got. On this boat, the man on point would have no hope of blending in. "They've modified the cargo hold slightly. There should be a hatchway right here leading down but it's been welded over."

"That means access only from the inside," the guardian said.

The other man scanned the deck with his night-vision lenses. There were no guards about, but that was probably normal. Anyone armed would be inside to attract the least amount of attention. He returned the lenses to normal and pulled his companion down.

The man in charge was named Dick Grayson and as a profession, he was a super-hero. His career started before he was ten, when his parents had been murdered. All three had been part of a circus trapeze act, which meant that when Dick was taken in by Bruce Wayne, the mysterious Batman, he was more than ready to meet the physical aspects of a life fighting crime. As Robin, he had been the "better half" as he called it of the Dynamic Do, and for many years he and his mentor had protected Gotham City from the infestation of insanity that seemed to spawn just after World War 2.

He was no longer Robin and he no longer lived in Gotham City. As Nightwing, he patrolled the city of Bludhaven, just down the river from Gotham. He and the Batman simply didn't see eye to eye on many things and while they cared for each other, separation was the best thing for keeping them from fighting.

An orphan just like Dick, Roy Harper was also a super-hero, having been the partner of the original Green Arrow. However, where Dick had dealt with the issues of being a sidekick well enough, Roy had not. Drugs, drifting and finally an illicit affair with a terrorist had been the rough path he had taken to get where he was today. As Arsenal, he was the master of any weapon and as plain Roy, he worked diligently to be a father to his young daughter.

They were friends, good friends in fact, but it had not always been that way. Years earlier, as Robin and Speedy, they had helped form a team called the Teen Titans. Everyone looked to Robin as the natural leader and looked to Roy to be the natural playboy. Both teens had fallen into their expected roles a little too well and it had led to conflict between them. When Roy developed his drug problem, Dick had been less than sympathetic.

Age and maturity had healed the wounds between them and that was why Roy was here in Gotham City tonight. "Tell me again why we're on this big tuna boat?" Roy asked quietly.

Dick sighed. He wanted to shift to "hero-mode" and just get going, but a good leader knew that a well-informed team was an efficient team. "I busted a drug deal going down in Bludhaven last night," he began as he put his palm pilot away. The schematic was useless and they would have to wing it. "In exchange for letting him go, minus his drugs, the dealer gave me the name of someone who was looking for work creating artificial drugs."

"Big deal," Roy said as he peered over the crates. Someone stepped out of a hatch and lit a cigarette. So long as they kept puffing away, he knew exactly where they were.

"So, I figured that if this guy had experience, he might be able to lead me to some other big-name pushers. The guy turns out to be a scientist named Dr. Perot, a French-Canadian who was recruited right out of college to work for a company called Umbrella."

Roy scratched his head. "Yeah, yeah; damn does that name sound familiar."

Dick told him that they had been in many papers recently because of several industrial site accidents and what they called eco-terrorist hits. Dick had already asked Barbara Gordon, the cyber-sleuth also known as Oracle, to look into the company for him. "Well, this doc wouldn't say very much, though I did get him to wet his pants…"

"It's a Canadian thing I hear; it's how they say hello."

Dick ignored the joke. "He told me if I was interested in finding some biological weapons, then I needed to check out this boat."

"Did you turn him over to the feds?"

Dick shook his head. "Not until I check out his story. If he's blowing smoke up my butt, then him and I are going to have a little man-to-man talk."

"Don't you need to find a man to speak with him?" Roy joked. He was constantly letting loose with one-liners.

"I was hoping to use your boyfriend," Dick replied. The smoker went back inside and he picked out his path to another hatch that was leading down. "Let's go."

It was Nightwing that first noticed the cargo containers sitting on the deck. It made sense that some would be strapped to the deck, but these three just didn't feel right. They looked old, old like the ship they sat on and there was even some graffiti spray-painted on one of them. It was some saying from the previous decade. It was almost perfect camouflage.

Arsenal looked the massive containers over. "They go on semi-trucks. They've got refrigeration units on them as well." He pointed to the compressor assembly on the front of one of the containers. "Could be a load of illegal ice cream."

"You don't think my snitch is reliable?"

Arsenal leaned a shoulder against side of one of the containers and pulled out a toothpick to chew on. "Look, any time a man clad in black leather comes crashing through the window wanting information, you can expect to get some sort of answer."

Nightwing only nodded, not wanting to consider that he might have forced Perot to say anything. It was one of the problems with wearing the costume; it was too easy to intimidate a person into saying whatever came to in order to save their own skin. Instead of responding, the young hero examined the door, looking for a way to open it. He couldn't find any. "It's welded shut."

The other hero looked it over and felt around. "Damn straight it is. Who the hell welds a tractor trailer shut?"

"There has to be a way in; probably underneath," Nightwing said. It was a great security system, simply yet able to keep them out. Nightwing had a small cutting torch in his utility belt, but he was willing to bet that the containers were a lot thicker than what they looked. 

Arsenal motioned for him to hold still and then proceeded to climb up the side. Raised on a reservation in the southwest United States, Arsenal was a natural climber. He could find a handhold on a soap bubble if he had to. He climbed up and disappeared onto the top of the container. Nightwing put a gloved hand onto the container, but could not feel any vibration other than that of the refrigeration unit's compressor.

As he waited he looked around the vessel, but could not pick out anything of interest. Luckily before boredom affected his senses, Arsenal clambered back down. In his hand was his utility tool, which he was folding up. "All set."

"What did you do?"

"Unhooked the compressor; there's a opening for the ventilation. It's too heavy for me to move without making any noise," Arsenal told him. "Come on up and we'll move it and go in."

Nightwing obediently followed and with a little more effort than his friend, he managed to get to the top. Together, they crept along the top keeping to the shadows. Though the moon was high, the main island of the vessel covered them. So long as there was nobody looking directly down at them, they would probably be okay.

It took nearly fifteen minutes for them to remove the compressor gear quietly and it still required some minor cutting with Nightwing's torch. The refrigeration unit was destroyed and whatever was in the trailer was going to be ruined. Nightwing felt bad about it, especially since he didn't know what they were going to find. 

The first thing that they noticed was the smell, or lack of it. Even cold air has a smell, the kind of scent that tells you on an October day that snow was on its way. The hole had little wisps of evaporating ice rising from it and the darkness beyond seemed as cold as space. Arsenal looked at Nightwing. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"

Nightwing held up a finger and reached into his utility belt for a small electronic device. It was yellow with a flexible metallic probe. He extended the probe and waved it in the hole, waiting as the screen ran through a series of numbers. Finally, a green light came on and Nightwing visibly relaxed. "No known biological or chemical agents."

"I suppose that's good," Arsenal commented, his face showing he wasn't entirely convinced. "What of there is something we haven't got the ability to identify?"

"At least you have someone to carry on your name, then," Nightwing said as he stuck a leg into the hole. The cold immediately could be felt through his costume. He wasn't wearing his insulated winter gear, as he had not expected to be in that sort of environment. He was a super-hero after all, not a boy scout.

He was inside seconds later, though Arsenal took a little longer since he carried weapons, a crossbow and compound bow tonight. The truth was he could use anything as a weapon if he needed to. There was no light but Nightwing could imagine Arsenal was shivering. His costume was even thinner than the black bodysuit Nightwing sported. Whatever they were going to do, they needed to do it immediately. "See if you can find a light switch."

"In a trailer?"

"Yes, some of them have lights." Immediately, there was a flash as Arsenal ignited a chemical light. It cast an eerie green glow on the two of them. Their breath was forming into clouds that sought freedom out the hole they had entered through.

They were in a compartment that took up approximately one half of the trailer's length and it was filled with workstations and benches. There was also a computer that they immediately went over to, but were disappointed to find only a microphone. "Voice-recognition system I bet; top-of-the-line stuff," Nightwing commented.

Arsenal nodded and went over to the benches and searched the drawers. The only thing he found was a small pad of stationary with the Umbrella logo on it. It was a new pad that appeared to have never been used.  There didn't seem to be anything else of value until Arsenal noticed something about the workbench.

Nightwing joined him as he leaned closer with the chemical light. "Something's been written on here, like whoever was working here was bored or something."

Nightwing nodded and cleared his lenses to see if he could make it out. "Gotham Protocol."

"Here's another one that says 'Susan can suck eggs'," Arsenal said with a smile. "I think I'd like to meet Susan."

Nightwing filed the information away for future reference and then turned his attention to the wall that divided the trailer in half. There was a single, massive steel door set in the middle of it. In fact, the wall looked to be double reinforced and that made him curious as to what was on the other side. He stepped closer and noticed that there was some discoloration on the door handle. 

"Have you got a black light?" Nightwing asked.

Arsenal shivered and stamped his feet. "Yeah, why? Did you find a velvet painting of Elvis? Crap, Grayson, it's colder than a witch's tit in here!"

Nightwing pulled out a small aerosol container from his belt and sprayed it on the door and all over the wall. He stepped back and stood next to Arsenal. "Put that green light in your pocket and pull out the black light." He refrained from asking why Arsenal even carried one; most likely he did it because he thought the effect was cool.

Arsenal did what he was told and activated the black light. Suddenly, they were faced with what looked like a macabre work of modern art. "I sprayed Luminol on the wall. It reacts with human blood and lets it show up in a black light." Arsenal only nodded and looked as the chemical showed them what could have only been the most violent of deaths. 

There was less wall showing than blood and the streaks and splatters were everywhere, though a definite pattern of murder could be seen. The victim had been attacked in a corner, probably backed into it by their assailant. There was evidence of what could only be a throat slash as there were spots of blood from a fine spray up on the ceiling. 

The victim had then tried to make it to the door, it appeared as the bloody handprints showed where they had braced against the wall even as they were attacked even more. The death had been painful and both Nightwing and Arsenal found themselves saying small prayers for the soul of the victim. "They tried to clean it up, but it was only cursory. I'd say this trailer will never see the United States again."

"The violence, though, man," Arsenal said, his shivering having stopped with the disbelief he was feeling. This was no way to die. "Goddamn, look at this! Someone was slaughtered here, like a damn cow for hamburgers."

_Worse than that_, Nightwing thought. His friend was really upset, but he couldn't blame him. Arsenal once worked for a covert government agency called Checkmate and through them went undercover to infiltrate the terrorist organization of Cheshire. During that time, he had no doubt witnessed some brutal treatment of other human beings. It was a time he did not like to think about. "We need to see what's on the other side," Nightwing finally said. Arsenal agreed and threw down the black light, crushing it under his heel. The nightmarish blood spray patterns disappeared and soon there was the familiar green glow of the other light. "I think its warming up in here," he said as he crouched down to eye level with the lock on the door. 

Arsenal watched as his friend pulled out his lock pick kit. "Is there anything you don't have inside that utility belt?" he asked.

Nightwing smiled as he set to work on the lock. "I don't have a sweet little daughter," he said, reminding Arsenal of something happier than their situation. "Of course, I do have a small compartment for storing the phone numbers of my female admirers."

"Must be a pretty small damn compartment," Arsenal replied. Then he added salt to the wound. "Of course, you realize that you always end up with my sloppy seconds."

The door opened with a click and there was a small whoosh of air out at them, indicating the other side had been sealed with a positive pressure. The door had been part of a hermetic seal and they had just voiced it. Nightwing immediately reached for his detector and barked at Arsenal to step back and try to find something to cover their entrance hole with. If they had released an agent, then they would have to make sure it didn't reach the harbor.

"Why didn't you think of that before we opened this damn thing?" Arsenal asked.

Nightwing wanted to respond but a sudden odor assaulted his nostrils. He knew the smell, having come across it several times in costume and in uniform as a member of the Bludhaven Police Department. It was the smell of rotting flesh and decaying organs.

It was the smell of death. 

Nightwing stumbled back, covering his moth with his hand for fear he would put his evening meal all over the floor. Arsenal caught wind of the smell as well and cursed like a sailor. "Man! It's like we've stepped straight into hell or something."

His friend tried to get back up when there came a shuffling sound from the other compartment. Nightwing got to a crouch and switched to night vision mode just in time to see his worst nightmare come launching out of the doorway. It was a humanoid, perhaps even once having been human, but it had the fury and madness about it like a rabid animal.

Everything was a blur and Nightwing was pushed down by inhuman strength onto his back. The creature was in top of him, though he couldn't get a good look from the way it was batting at him. He put his arms up, his padded uniform taking the brunt of the blows while calling for help at the same time. The raving thing tried to bite Nightwing, but it suddenly jerked as if something heavy had struck it. 

The smell was awful, a mixture of rot and fecal matter and Nightwing imagined he was drowning in it. The moment's respite he had been given only seemed to infuriate the creature as it pressed its attack more. He heard the front of his Kevlar-weave uniform rip and some primal instinct told him not to let this creature draw blood.

Again he called for Arsenal and again there was a jerking sensation as something hard struck the thing. Once more it returned to attacking Nightwing with such emotion that all he could do is defend himself. He was unable to reach for any of his weapons for fear of letting his guard down and receiving a skin-penetrating wound.

Then the thing was off of him, lifted bodily by some unseen force. Nightwing wasted no time and rolled away into a crouch, pulling out his battle staves from their pockets and assuming an offensive stance. He looked over and saw that Arsenal had the green chemical light clenched between his teeth and another arrow notched in his compound bow. Slowly, he lowered it, then seemed to think twice and fired off one more arrow.

"Arsenal!" Nightwing cried out, fearing that his friend had overreacted. Super-heroes did not kill their opponents. That was the first rule.

The second rule was don't ever question a professional.

"I put two arrows in that thing and it wouldn't go down," Arsenal told him as he removed the light from his teeth. "Per square inch, I pack more force than Colt 45. My shots went clean through and the thing just got pissed!"

Nightwing nodded and looked to see the creature sprawled against the wall, two arrows sticking out of its head. "Thanks," he said, slightly embarrassed. Then he studied the thing in greater detail.

There was no doubt it had once been human, though the skin had a rough, brown quality from decay. There were whole sections of tissue missing and through the torn rags of clothing it wore, both heroes could see ribs and shriveled organs. No blood poured from any wounds, only a viscous yellow liquid that looked like a cross between spoiled mayonnaise and horse urine. 

The smell seemed to have gotten worse and Nightwing guessed that one of the shots had gone through the bowels, releasing pent up gases and mixtures. There was no doubt about it; the creature was a walking zombie. "But it was moving!" Arsenal explained. "It was trying to eat you!"

Nightwing didn't answer, but instead approached the corpse slowly. He held his staves at the ready. If necessary, he would crush the creature's skull because he was sure that it was dead when it attacked him so there would be no breaking of rule number one.  "It's wearing the remains of a lab coat," he said, reaching down. 

Arsenal notched another arrow. "That thing moves, get out of the way."

Nightwing appreciated the cover and quickly snatched away an identification card hanging from the lab coat. He read it out loud. "Susan Smyth, medical technician, Umbrella Corporation."

"The one that sucks eggs?"

"Looks like you got to meet her," Nightwing said. The body was indeed now a corpse and he pulled out a small camera to get some digital photographs. When he was finished, he stood up and took one final look at the zombie. He couldn't tell it was once female, the breasts having fallen off long before and the blonde hair on the identification card missing. The photograph on the card showed a pretty woman in her mid-forties, probably someone who was mistaken for a much younger woman. 

None of that registered when he observed the back of putrid flesh before him.

They made good their escape five minutes later after having looked through the room where Susan Smyth had been housed. It was empty and offered no other clues as to what was actually going on. Once they were safely away and inside Nightwing's car, he fired up his palm pilot again.

It was no ordinary hand-held computer but was instead two generations ahead of anything that could be found on the open market. Developed by a subsidiary of WayneTech, the company owned by Bruce Wayne, the computer was able to transmit from a satellite link and act as a mobile videophone, among other things.

Nightwing put in an anonymous call to the local Coast Guard, informing them of a murder on board the _Fading Sun_. They had removed Arsenal's arrows before leaving. "Something killed that woman and animated her corpse," Nightwing said as he gunned the engine. The 327 cubic inches of American horsepower roared as they tore out of the dock area and headed towards downtown Gotham City. "She was dead before we got there and somebody has to pay for it."

"What the hell does this have to do with biological weapons?" Arsenal asked as he popped open a cold beer from his personal cooler. Nightwing gave him a sour look. "What? I just killed a damn zombie. I think I deserve a beer."


	2. Chapter 2

Batman/Resident Evil: The Gotham Protocol

Chapter 2

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil™ is a registered product of Capcom Inc./Batman™ is a registered product of DC Comics Inc. Neither of these properties is used here with permission. This original story idea is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

Chris Redfield put the phone back down on the receiver and looked over to the two women relaxing comfortably on the couch. They seemed totally entranced by the television show they were watching, but Chris knew better. It was all a farce because all any of them could think of was the level of Luciferian corruption that was permeating their organization, their country and their world.

"We just got a random hit on the tracking program," he announced as he moved over to the small table. He picked up one of his Beretta 9 millimeter pistols and slammed a clip home into it. "Gotham City."

Jill Valentine, a tall long-legged redhead that oozed a latent sensuality, unfurled her legs from underneath her and slowly stood up. "I haven't been to Gotham in years," she remarked as she adjusted her trademark beret. "That's strange territory."

Chris agreed and holstered his weapon. "There are no S.T.A.R.s in Gotham City, which is surprising given the number of psychopaths, serial killers and terrorists that have hung out there in recent years."

"Isn't that the home of the Batman?" Rebecca Chambers asked, the youngest of the three. Barely nineteen years old, she was one of the most intelligent people either Chris or Jill had met. Rebecca had graduated from college while most of her friends were worrying about prom dates. A S.T.A.R.s agent for only a year now, she was nonetheless an experienced field operative now. She had been dealing with the Umbrella problem since the very beginning.

"I don't believe in batmen," Chris said.

"We fight zombies for a living," Rebecca said, not believing what she was hearing. "You have heard of the Justice League? Of Superman?"

"Wonder Woman?" Jill added. The two women nodded to each other.

Chris rolled his eyes. "Sure, I've heard of them. I even had a crush on Wonder Girl when I was a teenager; but I'm a real cop that has to fight real bad guys with real intent to kill me. All of those super-heroes, as far as I'm concerned, put on a dog and pony show. It's all fake to me."

Jill came over to the table and selected her own pistols, while Rebecca busied herself with straightening up the hotel room. Chris wanted to tell her to stop, but he realized that it was the younger woman's way of coping. They were constantly on the run, hiding out from the very organization they were trying to redeem, as well as from the forces of Umbrella. If Rebecca wanted to keep house for just a few minutes, who was he to complain?

It was a real shame that so young a woman should be involved in such a terrible thing as this war against Umbrella. Rebecca was a pretty girl, maybe a little thin for Chris, but he had seen the way other men had looked at her. Her only flaw, if one could call it that, was her intelligence. She was simply too smart for the average guy and most men felt inadequate around her. "I had a thing for Robin myself," she said as she straightened some pillows.

"I'll take a slice of Captain Marvel any day of the week," Jill said with an evil grin.

Chris said nothing, realizing that Jill was trying to bait him. Since their ordeal at the Spencer Estate in Raccoon City, the two of them had become very close, though neither of them dared to risk taking it to the next level. Instead, they both stood apart, watching the other's personality change as the war progressed.

Once a cut-up and all around womanizer, Chris Redfield was becoming the serious type and both Jill and Rebecca found his intensity somehow arousing. He was no-nonsense now and constantly worried about the welfare of not just his partners, but their other allies as well. One day, he would be a leader on the scale of Alexander the Great Rebecca had commented.

On the other hand, Jill Valentine had been somewhat subdued before Spencer, trying to draw little attention to herself or her past. The woman in the blue beret had not always been a law-abiding citizen, which ironically was what had caused the S.T.A.R.s to recruit her. She still didn't discuss her past, none of them did, but Jill was becoming more of a live-for-the-moment type of person and some of escapades drew shaking heads from her comrades.

Chris continued briefing them on the information he had received. "A call was put into the Coast Guard that a person had been murdered on a freighter we know is under contract to Umbrella. The Coast Guard arrived but were relieved by Delta Team from the Metropolis S.T.A.R.s. We know that they have been compromised by Umbrella." Jill nodded; it had been her that had discovered that bit of information when she had contacted an old friend in the LexCorp security services. Apparently, LexCorp had tried to recruit several S.T.A.R.s members, only to warned off by Umbrella operatives.

Lex Luthor may be president but he wasn't all-powerful. Few corporations in the world could give him pause; Umbrella was one of them. "Then there must be a facility in Gotham," Rebecca announced as she went into the bathroom to change. Unlike Chris and Jill, Rebecca preferred to relax out of uniform and in something oversized and wrinkled.

"We've always suspected it, but we couldn't prove anything. Umbrella has a number of legitimate operations, companies that had absolutely nothing to do with the other amoral activities of the corporation." He slid his second weapon into its holster, ran a hand through his close-cropped brown hair and then reached for his jacket. "Hey!" he called to Rebecca. "Hurry it up in there!"

Rebecca stepped out clad in her light green BDU's complete with a ball cap that she kept her hair under. Jill shook her head. "Lose that hat, sweetie; you're a pretty girl."

Rebecca blushed and pulled of the hat, letting her dark hair fall. She had let it grow since Spencer and it made her look a little older, Chris decided.

From a distance at least.

"It's been five hours since Delta assumed control of the area," Chris said as they sat outside the docks. There were several police cars, ambulances and various other emergency vehicles parked at the entrance, preventing them from entering. The official word, as Jill had gotten from a news cameraman with some flattering words and a lot of cleavage was that the captain of the vessel had been murdered in his sleep. The Office of Homeland Security had turned over the matter to S.T.A.R.s Metropolis because it appeared that the captain had some terrorist ties.

"Very neat; they can cover anything up by saying terrorists are involved," Chris said, disgust in his voice. He could not fathom the minds of the people responsible for the things he had witnessed. The depths that they would go to for something like money made him want to vomit. He turned and leaned into the car window. Rebecca was sitting in the back, typing away on a laptop. "What do you have?"

She didn't look up, but instead kept working, her small pink tongue sticking out as she did so. It made her look even younger. "The call was from an untraceable cell line, probably routed through a satellite with some high-tech encryption gear. Unfortunately for the caller, I can hack into the Coast Guard database where there is a digital copy of the call. Its standard federal regulations."

"How does that help?"

"I'm taking the voice print and running it through CIA headquarters to see of we can get a match, but first I have to figure out the encryption sequence. The caller used a special software to change the physical characteristics of their voice, but I'm assuming they used one of the standard programs to do it." She hit a few more keys. "I'm working on a hunch that since we're in Gotham, they might be using WayneTech stuff."

"That's a good thing?" Jill asked as she slid into the passenger's seat with a box of doughnuts. 

Rebecca refused one and kept working. "It is for me; I used to trade info on the net with someone named Oracle when I was in college. You might say Oracle has a thing for child prodigy's; we're all part of the same circle." Chris nodded, thinking what group he fell into when he was her age, which was not so long ago. He had been a jerk. "Anyway, she gave me a program once for encrypting our conversations and a computer science guy who liked me showed me how to upgrade it secretly from the WayneTech database."

Chris let her continue working and turned back to regard the press corps and police. There were several Gotham City police officers and Chris wondered if what he had heard about them were true. Years ago, Gotham City had been rife with corruption until a single officer by the name of James Gordon had led the battle to clean things up. That same James Gordon was now the police commissioner and Chris wondered if he approached the man with his problem, would he be willing to help.

They needed all of the help they could get and the aid was not coming in very quickly. Most of them had been labeled rogue agents, criminals; Chris had even seen one report where it was reported that Jill was nothing more than a prostitute with a badge, selling her body to whomever had the cash available. It was a terrible thing Umbrella was doing, destroying lives all in the name of the all-mighty dollar. They had put their claws into everything, including the S.T.A.R.s; recruiting those they could, killing off those they couldn't. 

"Son of a biscuit-eater," Rebecca said silently. 

Chris turned and once again poked his head into the window. Rebecca had a shocked look on her face. "I've got two probably matches, depending on how the encryption was done. It's the best I can do."

Jill wiped some jelly off her lips and gestured with the remaining pastry. "Go ahead, honey, we're listening."

"Well, the first one is probably just a fluke, but it says it might be Richard Grayson."

Chris shrugged. "Who the hell is that?"

Jill looked at him like he was stupid, as did Rebecca. "The guy who almost married Kory Anders, the alien super-model? One of People's 50 most beautiful people three years ago? Heir to Wayne fortune? Major hunk?" Chris didn't seem impressed. 

Rebecca shrugged. "The other one is Nightwing."

"So my choices are a spoiled rich kid or a super-hero from…New York?"

Jill shook her head and rummaged through the doughnut box for something to offer Chris. "Actually, I heard he's been busting heads in Bludhaven."

"Whatever. How did the CIA get their voice prints?"

"Grayson's adoptive brother was killed in the Middle East a few years back and the concern was that he could be a target himself. The voice print was taken from a television interview to be used for verification in the event of a kidnapping." She typed in a few words and smacked the Enter button. "Nightwing's is from an interview he did a few years back as well. There is a 15% margin of error because they weren't digital recordings."

Chris was satisfied. He opened the driver's side door and got in. He started the car up and started to slowly back away. "I don't suppose any of you know how to contact Nightwing?"

"He's with the Titans; their number is a matter of public record," Jill said. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed information for New York City. Chris continued driving, taking them towards downtown Gotham City to try and find some place to eat that didn't serve sugary sweets. Jill's obsession with carbs was bad enough; the fact that she only seemed to get prettier the more she ate them was downright frustrating.

"Yes, hello, I'm looking for Nightwing," Jill said after a few moments. "Is this an emergency? Well, yes, it is. Who am I? A friend? Excuse me? No, I'm not desperate. Who is this? Well, Miss Troy, I'll have you know that if I wanted to go to bed with him, I'd have no problems getting him in there. No! You're the hoochie!  You bitch!' She threw the phone onto the car floor. "That bitch hung up on me!"

Chris chuckled despite the seriousness of the situation. "Can you imagine how many women call up to speak with him, or any super-hero for that matter? No wonder the Justice League has their headquarters on the moon!"

"Yeah, I can see you calling Wonder Woman," Rebecca added from the back.

"Actually, like I said, I had a crush on the bitch as Jill so eloquently put it," he replied as they pulled into a parking garage. "We'll need to ditch this car here and find another one."

The others agreed and after finding a suitable spot, they parked. Jill went off to find them a new ride and Chris found himself discussing super-heroes again with Rebecca. "I guess my generation," he said and winced. He wasn't that old! "Look, I just think that if super-heroes were doing their job, then we wouldn't have to deal with companies like Umbrella."

"I think that's unfair," Rebecca said as she adjusted the laptop bag on her shoulder. "How many times have the heroes saved the world? They do their part and we have to do ours. Just because there are super-heroes doesn't mean that we stop having police."

Chris shrugged and did another look around to make sure nobody was watching them. "All I'm saying is that if I were Superman, then Umbrella wouldn't be a problem anymore."

"No, you would be the problem." Chris shot her and angry look and she started to explain. "Look, Chris, you're a helluva nice guy and all, but if you had the power, as you just admitted, you would go in and stomp Umbrella and anyone else who _you_ thought was wrong. You would become the almighty judge, jury and executioner and you wouldn't require a trial or evidence. We should feel lucky that these beings with these enormous powers have decided to abide by our laws." She looked away. "Because God help us if they ever decide not to."

She was right, of course, and he knew it. Again, she was extremely intelligent and were he a few years younger, he doubted that anything would keep him away from chasing her around this parking garage. The fact was that he was the older one and he knew she looked to him for guidance and leadership. Sometimes being a leader meant swallowing your pride and accepting the point of view of another person.

"Maybe you're right," he admitted and she turned back, her face brightening. He put an arm around her shoulder and gave her a quick hug. "You're pretty smart, kid."

"I'm a woman," she reminded him. She acted so much like his sister.

Jill came walking back up the ramp, speaking on her cell phone. The conversation was over by the time she reached them. Chris asked where their new car was. "We've got a ride coming."

"What do you mean?" he asked, surprised.

"Seems that Titans Tower traced my phone call and discovered that we were using an illegal cell," she said, tossing it into a nearby garbage can. It was true; they could not use any regulation S.T.A.R.s equipment and so Jill had been tasked with procuring black market phones for them. "Miss Troy called me back and told me I'd better explain myself or she'd personally hunt me down and have me arrested."

"Did you tell her?" Chris asked, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Cool your jets, lover boy," Jill chided. "It was Nightwing that made that call last night and he would very much like to speak with us about what we know. It seems he and another hero, Arsenal, encountered something very odd last night."

"Something like a zombie?"

Jill nodded. "It shook them up pretty bad and they want to know everything."

Chris understood that the final decision was his. They could all three disappear right then, just walk off into the day time foot traffic and never worry about it again. But they needed allies and for all purposes, Nightwing seemed to be one of the better heroes. The Titans had always enjoyed good press and there was certainly no reason not to trust them.

He looked to Rebecca, who smiled and nodded, prodding him in the ribs with her elbow. Jill gave him a look that filled him with longing, a look that said she was counting on their bond to influence his decision. "Fine. We wait. I hope they have coffee."


	3. Chapter 3

Batman/Resident Evil: The Gotham Protocol

Chapter 3

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil™ is a registered product of Capcom Inc./Batman™ is a registered product of DC Comics Inc. Neither of these properties is used here with permission. This original story idea is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

Chris awoke feeling surprisingly refreshed; it had been a long time since he had slept so soundly, though the circumstances could have been a lot better. Barely fifteen minutes had gone by before a limousine had approached them with a kindly British gentleman at the helm. He had beckoned them enter and they found the car to be furnished for the super-rich. After that, all Chris could remember was the hissing sound as the knockout gas entered the passenger cabin via several hidden nozzles.

He was with Jill and Rebecca and none of them were tied up and they seemed to be in a relatively large space, a cave of some sort. He could tell by the moldy smell in the air and he could swear he hear the chattering of bats from somewhere overhead. The other members of the team appeared unmolested but he did note that their weapons were missing.

He helped them up and asked them if they were okay. "Nothing broken, but I think my pride is bruised," Jill confessed. "We should have seen this coming."

Rebecca seemed the most worried and she asked if they thought Umbrella had gotten a hold of them. Chris didn't want to think of the ramifications of Umbrella controlled the Titans too. "Just sit tight and remember we need to stick together," he told her. He then cast a glace over at Jill and she understood his meaning. No matter what, they could not leave Rebecca alone. She simply wasn't experienced in resisting torture methods like they were.

"Who are you?" a voice asked from the darkness. Chris turned in the direction he thought it had come from and squinted. He could just barely make out the figure in the darkness.

"I'm Chris Redfield of the Raccoon City S.T.A.R.s, Special Tactics and Rescue Squad. I am a law enforcement agent with the federal government…"

"That's a lie," the voice said calmly. "You have been removed from duty. Raccoon City no longer has an active S.T.A.R.s team."

"I'm working on a case…"

"Be quiet," the voice snapped. "You've already lied once. You cannot be trusted. You, the redhead with the beret…who are you?"

Jill cleared her throat and stepped up next to Chris. "I'm Jill Valentine, I'm a member of S.T.A.R.s as well…"

"Another lie. Next."

Rebecca was shaking, but she bravely moved to step in front of her two partners and she stared into the darkness. The overhead lighting prevented her from seeing anything except shadows. "I'm Rebecca Chambers. I am…I was a S.T.A.R.s agent until our team was disbanded."

"Continue."

"I…we believe that the S.T.A.R.s organization has been infiltrated by persons who wish to undermine the national security of not only the United States, but perhaps the security of the whole world." She swallowed hard, realizing that if they were in the hands of Umbrella, she was most likely signing their death warrant. However, she still believed in heroes and right now, she needed to let go of her suspicions and trust in something. "We believe the Umbrella Corporation is developing biological weapons that would be considered illegal under the Geneva Convention and several United Nations resolutions. We believe that they are experimenting on human beings and are guilty of crimes against humanity. We believe that even though the S.T.A.R.s have rejected us, we are still obligated to our oaths to protect and serve the public trust."

There was a pause; a long one and Chris readied himself for whatever was going to happen. He half expected a legion of armed Umbrella guards to come crashing in and he was more than willing to take a few of them with him when he finally went down. His only regret was not being more cautious and leading Jill and Rebecca into this mess.

There was a tap on his shoulder and he whirled around, gasped and stumbled back. Jill gave a small squeal and Rebecca nearly fainted. Before them stood a massive man, well over sox-foot tall with a chest that was even broader than Chris's, and he worked out religiously. He was clad in black, with a large cape covering connected to a dark cowl with little points at the top. On his chest was a large bat emblem.

"Finally, an honest answer," the Batman said.

Chris regained his composure and threw a punch. The Batman stopped it with an outstretched palm and then closed his hand around the fist. "Don't."

Chris decided to follow the advice and relaxed. The Batman let him go and then carefully looked the three of them over. It was obvious who the leader was, but the Batman had already done an extensive background check on all three of them. They were, for the most part, nothing more than criminals according to reliable law enforcement sources. The Batman, however, had dug deeper and found several discrepancies with what was official.

First off, most reports indicated that Chris Redfield was unstable, but all the Batman had observed was a professional who was more concerned about his people then himself. It didn't match the FBI profile he had Oracle download for him. Jill Valentine, a woman reported to be given to bouts of "uncontrollable nymphomania followed by a compulsion to commit petty crimes" came across more as a woman of complete self-control and deadly seriousness that was masked behind an artificial façade. She reminded him of the Catwoman, a person who was beautiful and knew it and was not above using it to get the job done.

It was the youngest one that most intrigued the Batman. Behind her quaking form he saw the potential for greatness. "You tried to contact Nightwing," he said.

Chris immediately assumed the role of speaker for the group. "Yes. We believe that he may have encountered something to do with Umbrella last night."

"And?"

"And we want to know what it was."

"You aren't in Raccoon City anymore; Gotham City is my territory. Give me your information and I'll let you go," the Batman said. He saw the look in Chris's eyes; it was the same way the Batman would react of given the same conditions. 

"Mr. Batman, sir," Rebecca started, "it isn't that we don't trust you, it's just that we don't think you understand exactly what's going on. This isn't like chasing a mugger down."

The Batman started to speak when another voice broke through the darkness. "Damn it, Bats, you leather-clad fascist, quit the Gestapo tactics and turn on some lights!"

Batman held his tongue, knowing that his friend was only speaking his mind and nothing he could do would stop that. A man dressed in green archer's clothing, complete with the Robin Hood style hat, flipped on some more lights and the S.T.A.R.s agents were surprised to find themselves dead center in a mammoth cave. There were several other smaller caves here and there, each one packed with equipment or supplies. 

It was the famous Batcave, talked about only in whispers by those in the know, a secret laboratory of crime fighting Rebecca remembered from her academy days. She couldn't help but be a little disappointed by it all. She had imagined wanted posters and banks of computers churning out tips every other second, along with a full staff working in a forensics lab.

There was a computer; a massive one with multiple screens, but it wasn't anything she hadn't seen in college. There were some vehicles, including the Batmobile, but she had never been one for cars. Chris seemed to be eyeing it approvingly, but Jill was busy staring off at several glass cases full of costumes. There was a tattered uniform of Robin and one of Batgirl, though none of the S.T.A.R.s could know the significance of their placement.

That was the memorial hall.

The archer approached and they recognized him immediately as Green Arrow, or at least one of them. He was an older man, but in good shape as evidenced by his bulging forearms and biceps. He had a well-trimmed goatee and there was the smell of expensive cologne about him. He was cordial enough when he introduced himself to Chris and Rebecca, but he took extra time when speaking with Jill. "I'm the Green Arrow," he said with a smile.

"Yes, so I can tell by the little forest outfit," Jill said with an equally charming smile. Green Arrow chuckled and Batman recognized the lady-killer laugh that signaled the beginning of Oliver Queen's newest conquest.

Like Bruce Wayne, the man under the cowl of the Batman, Oliver Queen was no stranger to money. He had lived with it most of his life, becoming soft as he grew into adulthood. After being trapped on a deserted island for several months, he come to learn to rely on him and a bow and that was all. It changed him, made him into an adventurer and he assumed the name of Green Arrow to pursue his need for excitement.

Unfortunately, Oliver Queen was also a man who juggled responsibility like he juggled women. Over the past decade he had lost his fortune, his fiancé and alienated his adopted son to the point he started taking drugs. Then, of course, he died, only to be resurrected under the strangest of circumstances. Then, to top it all off, he got his money back.

In a way, he was an oxymoron; a man who fought for the downtrodden but lived in a mansion. He was an advocate of the poor while he now made efforts to make sure he never ended up there again himself. He lectured his adopted son, Roy Harper, on the importance of fatherhood while he made countless efforts to see how many wombs he could enter before he died again.

The Batman stepped past them and grabbed Green Arrow by the shoulder. "Let's step into my meeting room. I have food there."

"Food!" Rebecca said and she fell into step behind the Batman. Green Arrow watched her with an approving eye, watching her backside with intent. Chris saw it and was about to step in when Jill took Green Arrow by the arm and started to lead him. 

Minutes later, they were all seated around a long black table. Everyone except Batman and Chris were eating, the two men having a stare down from opposite ends of the table. Another costumed hero soon joined them, this time a woman with long silky black hair. Chris immediately recognized her as the Huntress, another vigilante from Gotham City.

He had a problem with vigilantes especially because that what cops are taught. The law was to be enforced only by those who have been trained and appointed. None of these people had the right, regardless of their intentions, to usurp the law. That was why he was fighting this war against Umbrella, to enforce the law. 

The Huntress said nothing and received only a casual nod from the Batman. Chris could sense the tension between them and he wondered why she was even here. His question was answered when several more super-heroes entered. He immediately recalled their names as they stepped in and grabbed a seat. 

Nightwing. Arsenal. Batgirl.

"Look like the super friends are all here," he commented.

Arsenal looked at him from over the top of his red sunglasses. "Oh, that's really funny, sport."

"Quiet, both of you," Batman ordered. He pulled out a remote control and pressed a button on it. The far wall lowered, revealing a giant computer monitor behind it. On it was a computer graphic image of a head. "Oracle, are you there?"

"Yes, Batman, I'm here," the head responded, complete with lifelike animation. Rebecca smiled and called out a greeting. "Hello, Rebecca, long time no hear."

She looked down at her plate. "I've been sort of busy…"

"You should enter the chat room some time, we've missed you," Oracle responded.

"Let's begin," Batman said and Chris nodded his approval. "Last night, based on a tip, Nightwing and Arsenal investigated a suspected shipment of biological weapons."

Nightwing then took over and detailed his and Arsenal's adventure the night before. When he was finished, he asked how the S.T.A.R.s knew he had been the one to send the call to the Coast Guard. Chris responded by telling them about the CIA database. Batman looked up at Oracle. "You have a handle on that?"

"Already hacked their database and changed the records. This won't happen again," was the response. Chris kept his face impassive but he was secretly impressed by the way this outfit ran. It was like an S & M version of the S.T.A.R.s. 

"We know that this Susan Smyth was assigned to work for Umbrella; according to her resume which we found posted online, she was working with a Dr. Theodore Madison on a project underwritten by a company called Petro Chemicals," Nightwing said.

The Oracle head nodded. "Petro Chemicals was once known as Queen-Chem, a company that manufactured spray paint for the automotive industry." Green Arrow removed his hat and shook his head. Before his enlightenment as he called it, back when he was a money-grubbing capitalist, he had been the man who owned that company. To know that something he started was now involved in biological weapons just made him sick.

It was the reason why he was here because Arsenal had recognized Umbrella as one of the companies that had bought up the portions of the Queen Fund when Green Arrow had lost his original fortune. "Queen-Chem was based out of both Gotham City and Star City. The Star City facility was shutdown in a corporate cutback four years ago."

"Then whatever Umbrella is up to is in that facility," Chris said. He started to get up. "Thanks for the info, now show us the way out."

Batman regarded him. "Sit down," he said. Chris resisted for a second, just enough o show his defiance, and then slid slowly back into his chair.

Oracle continued. "Petro Chemicals was shut down six months ago after a toxic spill. Several workers were lost…"

"I remember reading about that, but I thought the EPA handled it," Rebecca said.

"They did until Metropolis S.T.A.R.s took over the investigation. Both Alpha and Bravo teams have been securing the site while a special Umbrella team has been allegedly cleaning things up." Oracle paused and a picture appeared on the screen of a man in his early forties with a balding head and large, thick glasses. "This is Dr. Madison, an expert in cryogenics and genetics. He was working on a way to perfect suspended animation when he was recruited by Umbrella two years ago. His research assistant was Susan Smyth. Both of them were reported missing three weeks ago."

Nightwing turned to Chris. "We believe that that, from what my source has told me, that Madison and Smythe were lovers and Smythe broke off the relationship."

"Yeah, he thought she sucked," Arsenal added.

"And?" Chris asked, not quite catching on.

Jill thought she had an idea. "You think that Madison infected Smyth with something and she killed him?" All of the heroes nodded. Oracle then spoke for her side. "What we would like to know is what is this all about? What is this biological agent?"

Rebecca coughed. "I'm a biochemist," she said and there was a look of disbelief, especially on the Huntress. "I barely understand the technology, but essentially Umbrella is developing a way to create the perfect soldier. They want to transform soldiers into unthinking, unfeeling killing machines."

"Fascists," Green Arrow muttered.

"The problem is that they don't want to wait for FDA approval on their work. It's big money for whatever they develop, trillions of dollars as governments compete for these soldiers. There are several different viruses that have been developed," she said, shaking her head. "The main one is the T-Virus; it changes a normal person into one of those creatures you saw last night. They survive for the most part by feeding off of other living things, but they do eventually rot away to nothing."

"So what was Madison working on?" the Huntress asked.

Oracle had the answer. Another picture appeared of a man in white armor, his head encased in a plexi-glass helmet. "We believe that they were working with a criminal known as Freeze. He is also an expert in cryogenics and we've learned that part of his rehabilitation in the Arkham Asylum has been paid for by a subsidiary of Umbrella. Freeze has developed a way to keep crystallization down during freezing."

Rebecca nodded. "That would be very useful."

"I don't get it," Arsenal said, leaning forward. Chris smirked, but the hero ignored him. "If these things don't feel pain and don't care, so what if their blood freezes?"

"The problem is ice crystals can damage the muscle structure," Batman said. Rebecca found herself entranced by the way he explained it. It was like having the worlds most fit professor, with a little bad boy thrown in, lecturing to you. "They would be useless after they were warmed back up."

"So what? Just make some more," Chris said. "That's what they do, experimenting on people and animals by the hundreds. They don't care."

"But their potential clients would," Batman pointed out. "According to Miss Chambers, they decay almost immediately. So, chances are they are only useful for a few months before they have to be replaced. If you could freeze them until you needed them, that would be a great selling point."

"Freeze-dried fascists, that's just great," Green Arrow grumbled. His anger at himself and at Umbrella was starting to get the best of him.

"Worse," Chris said, understanding the entire scope of what was going on in Gotham. "Freeze-dried hell."


	4. Chapter 4

Batman/Resident Evil: The Gotham Protocol

Chapter 4

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil™ is a registered product of Capcom Inc./Batman™ is a registered product of DC Comics Inc. Neither of these properties is used here with permission. This original story idea is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

Batman leaned back and placed his hands under his chin while he contemplated the situation. If the Umbrella Corporation really was performing human experiments, they had to be stopped. Did he, however, need to take the word of three "rogue" agents of S.T.A.R.s?

Oracle had vouched for Rebecca and Batman was inclined to trust her. She had the look of optimism, a look not so very common with young people today. Her youthful enthusiasm and belief in doing what was right weighed heavily in their favor. "So, what is going on there now?"

Chris leaned forward and snatched an apple from a fruit bowl in the center of the table. Now they were in a planning session, not an interrogation and he wanted to contribute. "I'd say something went wrong six months ago. It could have been anything, but given Umbrella's inability to account for human error and greed, I'd say whatever it was put their project in jeopardy."

"It is also possible they wanted to move to a more remote location," Oracle suggested. "I have copies of real estate purchases on several islands in the South Pacific from various governments. It is possible that your efforts to expose them have forced them to relocate."

"Then why call in the S.T.A.R.s from Metropolis?" Jill asked. "I mean, did they really need all of that security?"

"Could have been just to be safe," Chris speculated. "There was that Caliban Cove operation in Maine around that time." He looked to Rebecca and she nodded. In that event, an Umbrella scientist had decided to purge the world of inferior creatures by releasing an agent into the atmosphere. Rebecca had joined with another S.T.A.R.s team not on the take to stop it.  "What about your contact, Nightwing?"

"He claims that all he did was research," Nightwing responded. "I don't believe him, of course, but he's scared to death that of he talks, it will lead Umbrella to him. I'm still working on him."

"Maybe I should take a crack at it," Chris suggested. From the scowls around the table, he realized he made a verbal faux pas for the super-hero circle. "Or else you could let us know what he has to say later."

"There may be another reason," Rebecca started. "They may be shutting the place down, but they may have had an experiment going on that they couldn't interrupt. Maybe they have some zombies under ice and they want to see of they can revive them after a certain period of time."

"If so, then there could be just enough evidence to convict Umbrella," Chris said, suddenly excited. It would be great to catch Umbrella actually doing the work, instead of following behind and cleaning up their messes. "It would explain the extra security while they dismantle the place."

"But I thought Madison was their top guy?" Arsenal asked. "Isn't he dead? Didn't we decide that?"

"Yeah, but who could they turn to?" the Huntress put forth. There were several shrugs around the table. "Come on people!" she snapped. "We know Freeze is still at Arkham. What about Captain Cold or the Icicle."

"I've already checked on both of them and they are both in prison right now, though I bet if we interviewed them we'd find out they've been approached by Umbrella," Oracle said. "I'll do some more research on it but I'm afraid it won't do much good."

"She's right," Batman concluded. "Besides your word, there is no evidence that Umbrella is up to anything. I can't have the Justice League approach the United Nations about a potential terrorist threat when there is no evidence."

"You saw a body last night," Chris said. He turned to Nightwing. "You could testify."

"We're masked men; who's going to believe us?"

"How about Superman?" Rebecca suggested. Oracle responded that the rest of Justice League was currently away on another planet for a mission and were not expected back for at least a week. "A week might be too late!" she exclaimed. "With their ship getting broken into, they are going to up their evacuation procedures."

"Agreed; we need to get into that facility and find the information we need," Batman said. "I'm putting together a team with myself, Green Arrow and Batgirl." Chris looked at the leather-clad Dark Knight Damsel. From her body size and shape he could tell she was most likely younger than Rebecca. Did all leaders have to face sending children into harm's way? "I'd like you three to come with us."

Jill smiled. "Alright! Now we got some real back-up!"

"Time to smash the corporate giant!" Green Arrow chimed in. 

The six of them gathered around what could only be described as the Batvan, a custom machine that said "Porsche" on the rear door. Batman and Batgirl were going through their utility belts and Green Arrow was checking his quiver. "Why don't you give us a safety lecture, Ms. Chambers?" Batman asked.

The young woman bit her bottom lip. "The T-Virus is very contagious. All it takes is for these creatures to break the skin, or for you to get it in your eyes or mucous membranes. As far as we know, Umbrella never developed an airborne version."

"You heroes know to shoot to kill, don't you?" Chris asked, hinting he wanted his weapons back. Batman and Nightwing had argued over that issue for nearly an hour outside of earshot from the others. The Batman was sworn against guns, since that had been the instrument of choice for murdering his parents. He loathed them even though he was an expert shot with one.

Of course, he could also handle the bow and arrow like an expert as well, thanks to training from Green Arrow. 

Nightwing, a police officer in his "normal" identity rationalized that by taking their guns away, the Batman was leaving three police officers defenseless. Regardless of his personal feelings, he could not dictate the use of force procedure for everyone in the world. "These are professionally trained law enforcement persons, Bruce," Nightwing had said. "It would be like telling me I can't use my gun."

Batman countered. "Would you? After all that we've seen, after all that I've taught you, would you use your weapon, or would you use the skills I taught you?"

Nightwing had pointed to the three S.T.A.R.s. "You never trained them."

In the end, Batman had relented, but he was not going to give them back their guns until they were on site. Then they would receive a lecture about the dangers associated with carrying a firearm in _his_ city. "You'll have your weapons, don't worry," Batman said coldly.

"Good. Another thing is that I'm in charge of my team," Chris said. Batman straightened up and Chris held up a hand. "Don't give me that crap about this being your town and all. Last time I checked, you weren't elected to office."

"Boys," Jill said, trying to be the peacemaker. "How about we get there and do what is necessary. Have you ever stopped to think that the place will be deserted?"

Batman and Chris faced off and then turned back to their people. As hard as he tried, the Caped Crusader could not find it in his heart to begrudge Chris. The man was just trying to look after his people and do his duty. He had a dedication that the Batman understood and he wondered, just briefly, if he irritated people as much as Chris was irritating him. A look over at Nightwing's knowing smile gave him his answer.

Rebecca approached Batgirl slowly and extended her hand. "That's a new costume, isn't it?"

"I'm not that Batgirl," was the response. It was weird talking with her since the leather mask covered her entire face. In fact, no part of her body was showing so except for the breasts, Rebecca couldn't be sure if she was talking to a girl or not.

"Do you like music?" Rebecca asked.

Batgirl blinked behind her mask and smiled. Usually people asked her if the costume was uncomfortable or if she enjoyed kicking butt. Nobody ever cared, except for her allies, what she enjoyed. Immediately the normally quiet Batgirl began talking about several groups that Rebecca had never even heard of. The two young women were the first ones in the van, taking the back seat.

"I've got shotgun," Chris announced and he moved to the van while Green Arrow carefully escorted Jill into the middle seat of the van, taking care to stand directly behind her as she climbed in. He turned briefly and got a thumb's up from Arsenal and then hopped in.

Batman stepped over to Nightwing and the Huntress. "You understand why I can't let you go."

"This is insane, Batman," Nightwing said. He couldn't use real names because the Huntress was not aware of their secret identities. "This is nothing for you."

"I go through very few fights without getting at least a scratch," Batman said. He turned and looked back at the van. "If I become infected, you two are the only ones who will be able to take me out."

"Don't worry, Batman, I understand," the Huntress said with a wicked grin. The two of them had been nursing a love-hate relationship for years now. Originally, the Huntress had been just a wild vigilante that Batman hoped to tame. In a way, maybe he did and there was even a time when he sponsored her for admission into the Justice League. She held a more conservative view of punishment for the guilty, though, and when she had tried to kill a foe during a battle, he had her ejected. 

That wound still stung and Nightwing was surprised that she had been called to this meeting until he realized that if someone needed to kill a zombie-Batman, he might hesitate. The Huntress would not. Afterwards, Nightwing would take what information he had to the Justice League and let them sort it out from there.

Time was against them on this; they needed to stop the people responsible from leaving if they could. Six months before, several people had died and if the investigation into it was corrupted through bribery and graft, then they had an obligation to expose that. There could still be innocent people in that facility as they stood there, being experimented on.

Batman had thought about contacting his friend Jim Gordon, but there was no way to know if some of the people in the GCPD were on Umbrella's payroll. A word of warning and all of the evidence could be destroyed with something as simple as a delete key. No, this was a mission that required stealth, aggressiveness and a bit of luck. This was the team to do it.

"Anything on the so-called Gotham Protocol yet?" Batman asked.

Nightwing shook his head. "Again, we're looking into it but we have so little time." He shivered visibly. "You should have seen that monster, Batman; no human being should have to suffer life that."

Batman nodded and then turned, his cape flowing in the breeze he created as he headed to the awaiting van.

Nightwing prayed it wasn't the last time he saw him.

Felix Turner lit a cigarette and examined the printout of the initial report being made by the Metropolis S.T.A.R.s. It stated that there was evidence that someone had gotten into the Madison's private work trailer and found Smythe and then proceeded to kill her. It was too bad; Smythe had been the only T-Virus recipient to undergo the freezing process. All of the others were infected with the TMB Virus strain developed a year before.

This new virus was even better than the T-Virus in that it added some extra abilities to the zombies. T-Virus zombies were just too stupid to do anything and they weren't all that powerful. The new batches they were working on would be different, though, and Felix was sure he would be elevated to a more prestigious position in the Umbrella Corporation. From there, he would have enough money and power to satisfy all of his personal cravings.

It was a shame that they had to leave Gotham City, for he enjoyed it here very much. However, where they were going he could legally purchase all of the young men he wanted for his use and no questions would be asked. He just had to get used to their ethnicity. 

If only that damn Perot hadn't run! The fool! He was never in any danger of being infected, but he thought he was and so Felix couldn't really blame him. After all, when the orders came down to scrub the place, it had been Perot who had pointed out the people on his team that were willing to leave the company and go on to someplace else like LexCorp or WayneTech. Umbrella couldn't afford that so those researchers and scientists became something more useful to the company: test subjects!

Then Madison had to go and get all pissed off because his married assistant didn't want to play the horizontal tango anymore! Though Felix had to admit that Madison's version of revenge was sweet indeed. He'd definitely shown that bitch! Felix remembered Susan Smyth, cute but stuck up. He chuckled when he came to her photographs. 

"Not so pretty anymore, are you honey?" he said, scratching at his head. 

The evac was going on schedule and the Gotham Protocol was just about ready to be enacted. It would not only cover their escape, but if they left any loose ends, it would explain it quite nicely. He loved Gotham City and the way it seemed to have an answer for any question that came up.

He got up from his desk and walked over to the observation window that let him look down into the main lab. The technicians were busy dismantling the computers and after that they would remove the feeding apparatus for Test Subject A, the Adam of the new breed of soldier. The creature was huddled in the shadows, sleeping probably. It had eaten just recently, two crewmembers from the ship. Fools! Luckily Umbrella was flying in a good Russian crew to take the ship out. 

"Tell me, Craig," Felix said, addressing the head of security that was standing quietly at the door. "How long before we're ready?"

"We estimate another four hours and then we blow the electrical grid. It'll look like an accident and the explosives should do the rest." He didn't bother to state that the entire thing would be blamed on eco-terrorists. That was Umbrella's standard policy now. 

Felix nodded and took another drag off of his cigarette, letting the smoke roll up his face and into his nose. No pain today; that meant the experimental drugs he was taking for his cancer might be working. It was a by-product of the work for the biological assets as they were called. They didn't market it just yet; Umbrella was too busy spiking the cigarettes they manufactured under another name with cancer-causing chemicals. Once the numbers were high enough, they would introduce their cure and make even more money.

"God bless the U-S-A," Felix said with a smile.

Chris couldn't resist the pun. "You drive like a bat out of hell."

Batman said nothing but kept his eyes forward, maneuvering through a series of different paths so that the S.T.A.R.s agent would not know how to get back to the Batcave. Not that Chris wanted to; he still saw the Batman as operating outside the law but not out of necessity like he, Jill and Rebecca were. He suspected that the man behind the cape and cowl was most likely a decent man with a lot to offer society, but driven by something so terrible that he had to hide himself away behind another identity.

The young S.T.A.R.s agent wondered if he were looking at his own future. "Do you always have to look pissed off?" he asked, trying to get a conversation going.

"It's part of the act," Batman said, with a slight smile. The Caped Crusader knew that by the time they reached the Umbrella plant, he and Chris Redfield would have to put their differences behind them. There could not be two leaders and he knew that intimidation would not work. This was someone used to fighting the living dead; a man dressed up like a flying rodent wasn't going to inspire fear. "I play bad cop most of the time."

"Is it an act?"

Batman shrugged. "If I have to scream and yell, punch and kick…it doesn't matter. I want Gotham City to be a place that common people don't have to fear. A person should be able to walk down the street at night and not worry about getting shot." Chris noted that Batman's lip quivered slightly with the statement and he got the impression that the forces that drove this man to become what he was were not pleasant at all. At the root of most driven men was usually great tragedy.

Chris was reminded of the Bravos of the Raccoon City S.T.A.R.s, how they had been slaughtered like animals at the Spencer Estate. They had been given no warning of what to expect and in the end, they had been betrayed by one of their own. Chris's soul still burned with rage and despair over the friends he had lost.

"I understand, I think; you take pride in where you live, in its people and it's culture." He looked out the window, picking up the hushed conversations of the passengers. They seemed oblivious to what was going on in the front. "I felt that way about Raccoon City. I loved that place. Now…I don't think I can ever look at it the same way."

"So don't," Batman said, taking a hard right onto the main road into the city. "Look at it through the eyes of someone who wants to fix things. You chose to be a cop, so be a damn good one."

"Why aren't you one then?"

Batman didn't answer for a long moment. "I told you before, I don't like guns.'

"A cop never wants to use his weapon," Chris pointed out. 

"Yet, especially in Gotham City, he inevitably does. Then you have to deal with loopholes in the law…"

"Oh, yeah, things like the Constitution," Chris laughed. "Don't get me wrong, I agree with you. It's no longer about justice so much as its interpretation of the law. That's why Umbrella can continue to function."

"So, we both want justice. I just don't think you can find it with a gun," Batman said.

"Well, you have balls Mr. Batman, I'll give you that. I hope we can work this out without anyone getting killed," Chris said, shaking his head. At least Green Arrow was carrying a weapon. He was worried that his team was going to be spending too much time covering unarmed civilians, or worse…

Expecting unarmed civilians to cover them.


	5. Chapter 5

Batman/Resident Evil: The Gotham Protocol

Chapter 5

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil™ is a registered product of Capcom Inc./Batman™ is a registered product of DC Comics Inc. Neither of these properties is used here with permission. This original story idea is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

The Huntress watched as Nightwing and Arsenal talked quietly between themselves, waiting for the time when she would be escorted away. She was the black sheep; the non-kissing cousin of the Bat Clan and here presence here had to be disturbing them. It was the only reason to explain why as soon as Batman and the S.T.A.R.s team had left that nobody would speak to her.

She looked over at the glass cases that held the costumes that were no longer being used, silently wondering if the Batman would put hers there if something ever happened to her. A tap on her shoulder broke her concentration and she turned to see Nightwing's smiling face. His rugged handsomeness was disarming and she was the authority on that; they had once been lovers. It was strange that she still didn't know his real name. "Yes?" she asked.

Nightwing indicated Arsenal with a gesture. "Roy is going to stay here and maintain the store. I was wondering if you'd like to come with me back to Bludhaven. I have to pick up my snitch and put him in a safe house until we can broker a deal for him."

"Not going to just let him go?" she asked with an arched eyebrow. 

He shook his head. "No; he has too much information to let go. Plus, if Umbrella is willing to experiment on humans, then they won't think twice about killing him. Perhaps the Gotham Protocol is a set of procedures for tying up all loose ends. There is no way to know." He put his hands on his hips. "Unless you have a problem doing something as mundane as protecting the innocent."

She gave him a sarcastic smile, her perfect teeth showing in a feral grimace. "Gee, I haven't killed anyone today…"

He didn't wait for the rest of the answer and instead marched off towards the Batmobile, sitting on its own at the end of a long, dark highway. "Is daddy letting you drive the station wagon tonight?'

Nightwing hopped into the vehicle and called to her. "I don't ask daddy for permission for everything. Are you coming?"

She decided it was better than being knocked out and dragged away. She could only imagine what Arsenal would be willing to do with her unconscious body. As if he read her mind, the young archer called to her. "You can always stay here and keep me warm, sweetheart!"

The Huntress ignored him and joined Nightwing in the car.

As they raced down the highway towards Bludhaven, Oracle gave them some more background information on the dashboard-mounted computer. The Huntress was silently impressed; the car itself with all of its gadgets, doo-hickeys and high-tech components was worth more than her entire apartment building. "Raccoon City appears to still have some problems with disappearances, but it isn't getting to the media," Oracle said. "I did a check and found out that Umbrella owns all of the papers in town."

"No wonder."

The Huntress examined Nightwing's face in the red light of the dashboard. There was a grave look of concern on his face and she could understand why. She hated complex conspiracies herself. The difference between the two of them was that Nightwing, like Batman, was willing to try and unravel the mystery. It challenged their minds and made victory more satisfying.

She preferred getting the Umbrella board of directors in a room and start shooting them in the knees. Eventually the truth would be known and the victory would be very sweet. She supposed she had too much of her father, a mafia crime boss before his murder, inside of her. "Umbrella is like an octopus, having a tentacle everywhere. They contribute to political campaigns all over the world. Their total worth is unknown because most of their holdings are outside the United States."

Oracle then added in a low tone. "They even own five percent of Wayne Enterprises, the parent company of WayneTech." The Huntress couldn't see it, but Nightwing tightened his grip on the wheel. It was bad enough that one of Green Arrow's former companies was involved; if the Batman discovered any equipment from something he owned and controlled, it would be devastating.

Bruce Wayne would not allow others to suffer so he could profit.

"They are also involved with many other companies. Kord Industries for one," Oracle said. Ted Kord, the CEO of the company, was also a super-hero. As the Blue Beetle, he was a former member of the Justice League. "They were also part of the original investment group that Maxwell Lord put together when he reformed the Justice League a few years back."

The Huntress spoke before Nightwing could. "What the hell were they trying to do?"

"Maybe looking for super-hero test dummies," Nightwing said coldly. "Who knows?"

"Your Dr. Perot has an interesting resume as well," Oracle said. Suddenly a large amount of text scrolled on the screen. "This guy has worked for Project Cadmus, LexCorp and even Gotham University."

"What did he do there?" Nightwing asked.

"It doesn't say. Whatever it was, it must have been embarrassing for the university because they struck it from their official records." Oracle's head twisted to look at the Huntress. "As for your other question, Nightwing might have been on the money. Umbrella has some legitimate work going on looking into the Metahuman Genome Project that was proposed a few years back."

"Isn't that the thing where they are trying to figure out why some people get super-powers and others don't?" the Huntress asked. Suddenly she started to understand. "My God! They want to create some sort of super-zombies?"

"This isn't a world that isn't without ways to beat back the dead," Nightwing said, taking the first Bludhaven off-ramp. "I mean, how long would an army of the dead survive against Superman? Wonder Woman? Green Lantern?" 

"Not long I suppose," the Huntress said quietly, contemplating all of the ramifications. An army of undead would be an incredible weapon, easily produced when one got a hold of the T-Virus. Small nations willing to bend the rules of morality would be able to challenge the authority and sovereignty of larger nations. Millions of innocent people could either die or worse, become the weapon of evil. All the while, the Umbrella Corporation would continue making money. 

That is if all that was being said was true. "Are we sure that the stuff these renegade S.T.A.R.s agents are saying is true? I mean, the FBI has been chasing them and I thought you guys kissed the Bureau's ass every chance you got."

Oracle's head flickered for a moment and the Huntress decided that whomever was on the other end of the transmission had taken offense. Little did she know that the human personae of Oracle was hacking into the IRS database and listing Miss Helena Bertinelli, secretly the Huntress, as awaiting an audit of her last five years' taxes. 

"I believe them," Nightwing said. "I saw that…thing, Huntress; it was not the result of an accident."

She decided not to respond, but that didn't mean she was entirely convinced. Chris Redfield had reminded her too much of the Batman, too doing the right thing. In the view of the world the Huntress held, such people didn't really exist. She was positive that along the line somewhere, their lies would be exposed.

Oracle signed off, stating that she was going to try and find out exactly what Perot had been up to in his university days. Turning to Nightwing, the Huntress asked him why he didn't just ask the man. "He might lie. It's also better going into the interrogation knowing some of the truth to gauge the person being questioned."

She pulled at one of her leather gloves, opening and closing her hand in a fist. "There are other, more direct ways to get people to talk."

"Haven't you learned anything in your time with Batman?" he asked.

"Yeah; it's just I don't care."

The hopped across the alleyway from one rooftop to the other, their young bodies and powerful muscles propelling them with ease. They both landed hard and stayed in crouches. Nightwing signaled for her to move quietly; the neighborhood they were in wasn't the safest. Rooftops were favorite spots for drug deals, murders and rapes and he wanted to survey the terrain before they made any move.

Huntress decided that this Dr. Perot had to be desperate to be living here and it was no wonder he was trying to sell his services to various criminal organizations. Nightwing explained that the scientist had been traveling back and forth between Gotham and Bludhaven and was thinking about moving on to Midway City. From her family connections, Huntress knew that he would have even worse luck finding work there. Years before, Hawkman and Hawkwoman had run the mob out of there and she doubted any of the gangs that filled the criminal void had the desire for biological weapons or synthetic drugs.

There was no doubt that Nightwing and Batman would turn Perot over to the Department of Homeland Security before he could create something that would be used against the people of the United States. Of course, he probably already had and maybe the feds would get up and do something about Umbrella.

They approached the opposite ledge and satisfied they were alone, Nightwing began to secure a line and the Huntress started to do the same thing. She wanted to ask why they didn't just go down the stairs like normal people but knew she wouldn't get a straight answer. Together they dropped from the edge of the roof down to a window Nightwing had indicated previously.

Before she could look inside, he was through the glass. His costume protected him from the shards and sharp edges and provided her with safe access. There was no time for words, to explain what had spurned him into action so quickly. It didn't matter, though, for despite their differences, she did trust him. By the time she had let go of her line and reached for her small crossbow, he was already across the room, standing over a corpse.

"Son of a…" he started, looking down at whom the Huntress assumed was Dr. Perot. "It looks like a heart attack."

"Which means someone very good at killing got a hold of him," she said. She then noted the small trickle of blood on the dead man's arm. "What's that from? Your buddy here shoot up?'

Nightwing shook his head. "Nothing indicated that he…hold it!" Nightwing sprang from his crouched position and jumped headfirst into the next room. The Huntress was running, following after him and stopped short when Nightwing came tumbling back towards the doorframe.

In the other room they confronted a large man dressed in full black leather, complete with the obligatory trench coat. He was of African descent, his skin color nearly matching that of his costume. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes from her view, but all in all she guessed that he was about ten years older than Nightwing and he moved like somebody used to fighting. "Try that again, boy, and you'll be dead," the man said. His accent was British.

"Who are you?" the Huntress asked, helping Nightwing up. 

The man smiled. "You may call me Vandross if you want to engage in conversation. I always try to make the time for beautiful women." He bowed slightly. "However, I'm afraid that now is not the time for getting acquainted."

"Did you kill that man?" Nightwing demanded, rubbing his jaw. Vandross had hit him hard, a little too hard for a normal person. "What's your connection to Umbrella?"

Nightwing took a step forward and Vandross lifted his sunglasses, revealing pale eyes. They seemed like dead eyes and the Huntress could have sworn she saw a membrane go up over them right before twin beams of red hot death shot out, burning the floor at their feet. "My heat vision is very nasty, boy; you'd better stay back."

Nightwing leaned his head over and whispered to the Huntress. "Can you shoot him in the leg?"

"I can change the pitch of his voice from here," she told him. 

Then the smell hit her.

It wasn't so much the smell as it was the way it burned through her other senses. For a moment, all she could do was taste the foulness. Her eyes watered and even her hearing seemed affected as the stench of a thousand dirty diapers. Forgetting Vandross for the moment, she turned her head and suppressed a cry.

Perot was standing there, his face ashen from the loss of blood, his eyelids drooping and fluttering as if he were overdosing very slowly. The smell was coming from him and she noted that his clothes were soiled from where his bowels had opened up. 

Nightwing saw the monstrosity as well and knew immediately what had happened. As he leapt back, he accused Vandross of injecting Perot with the T-Virus. The other man laughed and made his way to the front door. "But I didn't kill him; technically he's still alive!"

The Huntress fired her crossbow, the missile plunging deep into the Perot-zombie's shoulder. Instead of blood, a yellow pus started to flow from the wound, but the monster didn't seem to mind. Instead it seemed to regard the Huntress as food, it's mouth opening and closing as green-blue bile poured from it. Hands shaking from primal terror, she reached for another load for her crossbow when Nightwing launched into the beast.

His batons flew, playing a drum solo of pain and abuse along the torso of the creature. It made no sound other than some moaning, which reminded the Huntress of sexual ecstasy. It was all too perverted for her and she lost her balance, firing the crossbow into the ceiling. Nightwing continued his assault and the Huntress tried to kick away from the zombie as it reached for her.

She already knew what could happen if that thing got a hold of her and images of necrophilic rape clouded her mind. She had been pursued by many things; had barely escaped gang rape and murder in her chosen career. In each case, there had been that look of savageness in the eyes of the men who wanted to possess her, to make her their object. In this thing there was nothing and when Nightwing finally tried a head strike, an eyeball popped out and hung there from the optic nerve.

The creature didn't care; all it knew was the hunger it felt. It needed to feed on the warm flesh, to absorb the energy from the still beating heart of the creature in front of it. Of the three in the room, it was the one giving off the best scent. Even without its eyes it could still pursue her by taste alone.

"Damn it! Kill that thing!" she cried out as it reached out. She kicked and the heel of her boot crushed its nose with a wet popping sound. As more pus and mucous flowed, the stench level increased and despite herself, she started to vomit her stomach contents onto her chest. 

Nightwing had hoped beyond hope that he wouldn't have to kill Perot, that the man that once animated this body could be given his life back again. Now he had to make a choice as to whether stick to that hope or save his friend. The creature once again tried to get her and Nightwing slammed a battle stave home, cracking the creature's leg and bringing it down to floor level. It made no sound or grunt to indicate it even knew that it could no longer walk. All that it could conceive of was satisfying the unholy hunger it felt. 

The Huntress was able to get up and back away, anger now replacing fear. Her embarrassment over having deposited her lunch all over herself was now replaced with a single-minded determination to send this nightmare to hell. Reloading her crossbow once more, she drew down and put the bolt between the zombie's eyes. The Creature gave a shudder and then dropped its head to the floor, a pool of various fluids forming underneath it.

Nightwing turned, ready to take down Vandross now but was surprised to see that he managed to slip away. "Are you okay?" he asked the Huntress.

She threw down her crossbow and began to peel off her costume, stripping down to the sports bra she wore underneath. Nightwing started to turn his head and she grimaced. "Please; it's not anything you haven't seen before." She then pulled off her cape and wrapped the soiled leather up in it. "I need a shower."

Nightwing pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. "Oracle, I need you to contact S.T.A.R. Labs in Metropolis and ask them to send a team over here. Yeah, ask for Vic Stone." Stone was a member of the Titans who also worked with the leading scientific research agency in the world, S.T.A.R. Labs. Huntress stood away from the corpse looking at it. 

Nightwing replaced the phone to his utility belt. "Are you sure you're okay?"

The Huntress laughed lightly. "I've killed live people before and it didn't bother me as much as this." She then gave him and wicked grin. "Don't expect to be the shoulder I cry on though, Bat-boy." She gave the body one last look and shivered. "Why S.T.A.R. Labs?"

"The Titans work with them often and they may be able to analyze the body to see if there is a cure for the virus." He shook his head, silently blaming himself for not expecting that Umbrella would send an assassin after Perot. 

"We need to get out of here," she said. There was a brief hint of concern in her voice. Despite their differences, she still had a soft spot for him. "We need to find Vandross," she reminded him.

He nodded and gave her a good going over with his eyes. "Maybe we should stop by your place and get you a new costume?" 

"Right. Remember the last time you came over to my place?"

He smiled a large mischievous grin. "I knew you couldn't get me off of your mind." Then his tine turned serious. "We need to get going though; your fantasies can wait until tomorrow.'

"Dream on," she said as she walked over to the window where they had entered. She waited patiently as Nightwing did a quick once-over on the apartment looking for anything useful. As expected, Vandross had apparently already ransacked the place. "Are you ready?" she finally asked. 

He nodded and together they climbed up their ropes and made their way back to the hidden Batmobile, unaware that they were being watched from several miles away.

Vandross dropped his glasses back down, the protective membrane sliding back into the folds of his eye socket. He put the cell phone up to his mouth. "Definitely two of Batman's operatives. Nightwing and Batgirl I think, but I'm not too sure. I always thought Batgirl had red hair."

The voice on the other end of the line was monotone. "She's called the Huntress, one of the more reactionary elements of Gotham City. She's a female version of you in a way."

"She has a nice ass," Vandross responded. "You're right, she is just like me."

"If you're done with the jokes, then maybe you can carry out your mission and get the Gotham Protocol enacted?"

Vandross sighed. "Yes, sir. This does present something of a sticky wicket, though."

"We know. Redfield and his crew may have enlisted the help of the Batman."

"He could bring the Justice League down upon us," Vandross replied as he stood up. "I'm good, but I'm not ready to tackle Superman."

"None of us are which is why the Gotham Protocol must be enacted. If Nightwing gets in your way again, treat him like any of the renegade S.T.A.R.s. Eliminate him." The line went dead.

Vandross sighed and hung the phone up and then slowly walked away into the night.

"According to MercNet, the online database of mercenaries," Oracle's head said to Nightwing and Huntress as they drove back to Gotham City, "Vandross has been active for about five years. He was allegedly killed by Deathstroke." Nightwing nodded and applied a little more throttle to the engine. Deathstroke, also known as the Terminator, was a super-powered mercenary and constant foe of the Titans. 

"He didn't look dead to us," the Huntress added as they hit another bump in the road. She knew that Nightwing's driving hadn't suddenly turned bad. She leaned over. "If you don't stop making my chest bounce, I'm going to blacken those pretty eyes of yours."

He remained unaffected. "Change of plans; we're not going back to your apartment."

The Huntress looked out and saw that they were not on the main highway anymore but had instead crossed onto a state route. The road wasn't in the greatest repair. "Where are we going?"

"Perot used to work at Gotham University, right? I've got a feeling that's where Vandross is going," Nightwing said. "It makes sense. Perot was working on something at Gotham University that got him noticed by Umbrella I'll bet."

"It's more than that. I found the information but only after I went to some records from the ATF." Oracle's head was replaced by a copy of a report. "Perot was one of the scientists working with Dr. Kirk Langstrom a few years back."

"Oh my God," Nightwing said silently. "Have you told Batman?"

"No…oh, Jesus…"

"What? Who is this guy?" Huntress asked, her ire apparent by her tone. She hated the way everyone else in Batman's family knew everything except her.

"He's a scientist, a man on the cutting edge of genetic research," Nightwing explained. "He's made breakthroughs that most of the scientific world is only now beginning to understand. While companies like LexCorp and Project Cadmus worked on cloning, Langstrom was working on…"

"The Metahuman Genome Project," Oracle finished. "He never told us! I'm getting the information now by hacking into the university funding accounts. Yes! Langstrom's research was partially funded by a grant from the Umbrella Corporation. They were hoping to use his work to get a jump start on the cure for Parkinson's."

"So?"

Nightwing took a hard left and added more throttle. The road was now so bumpy that Huntress crossed her arms over her chest. "Langstrom went too far, he experimented on himself."

"Sounds like the kind of guy Umbrella loves."

"You don't understand; Langstrom wasn't interested in curing Parkinson's…he had his won agenda. He wanted to create a real Batman."

"A real one?" 

Sighing, Nightwing turned to her. "Kirk Langstrom is Man-Bat." 


	6. Chapter 6

Batman/Resident Evil: The Gotham Protocol

Chapter 6

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil™ is a registered product of Capcom Inc./Batman™ is a registered product of DC Comics Inc. Neither of these properties is used here with permission. This original story idea is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

The Petro Chemicals facility was not the most ambitious building project ever undertaken in Gotham City, but it was one of the most spacious. A single office building marked the entrance into the facility and behind it stretched several smaller buildings and chemical storage tanks. Surrounding it was a high voltage fence topped with barbed wire.

Batman stopped the van on a side access road that ended in a clump of trees. As the occupants disembarked, he began to activate the van's security systems. By the time he joined his teammates, the vehicle had become a fortress, able to resist the strongest of assaults. It was a creation that the master castle builders of old would have been proud of.

Chris nodded his approval, as he looked the van over with a trained eye. It reminded him of a regulation S.T.A.R.s surveillance vehicle, except this one really looked like it belonged abandoned at the end of a dirt road. "I bet that thing cost you a pretty penny."

Batman gave him a hard look and then the workings of a smile crossed his lips. "I got it at cost."

Green Arrow stepped between them, holding a rolled up set of blueprints. "If you two fine members of the oppressive capitalistic police state are done tickling each other, I'd like to get to work." He gazed over at the chemical plant. Most of the security lights were not on and those that were highlighted only the most obscure parts of the grounds. "Damn, it looks like they've already started bugging out."

Jill agreed and dropped a pair of binoculars from her eyes. "Normally, there would probably be several guard patrols out. I don't see anyone."

"Why would they just abandon the place? That would raise a lot of questions," Rebecca asked as she accepted a piece of gum from Batgirl.

The young woman in the dark costume stepped up. "They will destroy this place. I have seen it before."

Green Arrow gritted his teeth as he realized the girl was right. The only way to destroy something this big was with a lot of explosives. The Emerald Archer doubted that the Umbrella Corporation went to any trouble to make sure the chemical tanks were cleaned out. Clouds of toxic smoke would rise over Gotham City, exposing thousands to carcinogens and Lord knew what else. "And only the Man will have the money to get the correct medical care," he muttered.

"That means we don't have much time," Chris said. "We've got to get in there and find what we need." He rubbed his chin. "The biggest problem is that Umbrella has a habit of hiding things everywhere."

"And don't forget the traps and riddles," Jill reminded him. He nodded at her and she started to explain. "It doesn't fail that every time we get into one of their facilities, there are traps and puzzles to solve in order to get anywhere."

"For what purpose?" Batman asked, intrigued.

Rebecca answered. "Who knows? Maybe someone up high in Umbrella gets his jollies that way"

Green Arrow shrugged and got down on his haunches, unrolling the blueprints. Batman did another check of the perimeter fence. There were no cameras. That meant there was something inside the gates of Petro Chemicals that was very, very dangerous. Batman somehow doubted that it was the quality of the non-existent security guards.

"Where did you get these plans?" Jill asked, looking the diagrams over. The title block in the bottom of them indicated that they were the original plans from when the buildings belonged to Oliver Queen. "These can't be any good."

"As I understand it, sweet-legs," Green Arrow said, "there has been very little work done for most of the place. You can see that this place was designed to be like Fort Knox."

"Looks like there is an underground lab complex," Chris said, pointing it out. He looked up at Batman. "Umbrella installations generally have the bad stuff as close to hell as they can get." Batman nodded and stated that he and Chris would check out the labs.

Green Arrow agreed and pointed to the office-building complex. "Now this wasn't designed so well, but I'm willing to bet that all kinds of good intel can be found here. How about you and I check this out?" he asked Jill.

She looked over at the building in the distance, realizing that they would be very much alone and wondering exactly what it was the hero desired to investigate. She decided that regardless of his secondary intentions, Green Arrow was one of the good guys and so she acquiesced. Rebecca started to say something, wanting to protest being treated like a child but it was Batgirl who beat her to the punch.

"Rebecca and I will check the grounds. Perhaps we can discover someone still here." She turned to Rebecca and could tell that she was not pleased. She approached her and spoke in hushed tones. "We are part of a team and must learn our place. In time, both you and I will be the experienced ones, ready to train the next generation."

Rebecca accepted the answer but her scowl still showed her ire over being passed over. Perimeter duty was generally assigned to new agents in the S.T.A.R.s. Batman went over the plan in his mind and wondered if maybe he should have asked Nightwing and the Huntress to come along. He would have felt a lot better with his old partner by his side instead of Chris Redfield. Redfield might have been a professional cop, but right now Batman needed a professional hero.

Chris seemed to read Batman's mind. "Yeah, if I were you, I'd be wondering too. Truth is, I'd feel a lot better if you civilians stayed out here and let us go in. You're about to enter a nightmare. Do you know what that's like?"

Batman's mind floated back to a time when eight-year old Bruce Wayne stood by and watched as his parents were gunned down before his eyes. "Yes; I know what nightmares are made of."

Chris pulled out a pistol and loaded a round into the chamber. "I don't think you do. It's one thing to watch someone die, its another to see one violated in a way that is simply…evil." He holstered the gun and pulled the other one from the opposite shoulder holster. Jill was checking her own weapons. "I know it sounds preachy and maybe you guys in tights don't believe in real evil, but it's out there. It's something that goes beyond bad acts and crimes. I can't describe it exactly."

Rebecca agreed. "I'm an educated woman, but I can't begin to reason why someone would want to do these things. Is money really that important?"

"Yeah, if you're a Republican, right Bats?" Green Arrow joked, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't do any good. 

Finally, Batman gave the order and the teams split up. 

Forty feet away Batman's Justice League communicator buzzed. Chris gave him a sour look and wondered of the Caped Crusader understood the meaning of stealth. Batman ignored him and pulled the transmitter from his utility belt. "Go ahead," he said quietly.

Oracle immediately relayed the new information that Nightwing and the Huntress had come across. Batman listened and Chris cursed when he heard about the death of Dr. Perot. The hope that they could actually nab a defecting scientist had been great. Now that hope was gone. "It's like the closer we get, the further we get," Chris said.

Then Oracle dropped the bomb. "Nightwing thinks that they may have Man-Bat in there."

"What the hell is a Man-Bat?' Chris asked. "Another super-hero?"

"A problem I will handle," Batman said, looking down Chris's guns. "Are we perfectly clear on that?"

Chris put his hands up in mock defense. "I don't want to kill anyone. So long as it doesn't try to eat me, I won't shoot it." He waited until Batman calmed down and asked about Vandross. "Have you ever heard of him?"

"We don't get a lot of mercenaries in Gotham," the Batman lied. He found it hard to believe that Chris knew so little about Gotham City. "If we run into him, I'll handle that as well."

Chris snorted. "How about I carry your cape, your majesty? You better remember that I'm the expert on what's going on here."

"Then why is it that the Justice League hasn't heard about this?" Batman asked. "We have a hotline…"

"I thought you guys only handled Earth-shattering stuff," Chris said with sarcasm. 

"You have an obnoxious answer for everything, don't you?" He signed off with Oracle, giving her a series of orders first, and then returned the communicator to his belt. "Do you have any suggestions about entering?"

"Well, your archer buddy seems to think that the door to the underground labs is in the same place, about two hundred feet inside the compound." Chris looked at the fence and shook his head. "It doesn't make sense that they don't have more patrols out, especially if they are evacuating the facility."

"I was led to believe that you often encounter abandoned facilities," Batman said as he scanned the area. Satisfied that there were no guards, he and Chris crossed the road and approached the fence. 

Chris hunkered down and picked up a stick, throwing it at the fence. "Yes, which is why we wanted to get here so quickly. Ever since the Spencer Estate incident, Umbrella has been sort of nervous. They're closing all of their domestic facilities. We think they are moving operations to Asia where it's easier to get away with such things." Batman agreed and pulled out a pair of insulated cutters and began snipping through the fence. Chris continued whispering as he worked. "Don't you get arrested for stuff like this?"

"I have an understanding with the police," Batman replied.

Chris sniffed. "I can't believe that. Jim Gordon is a legend in the law enforcement community. I refuse to believe that he would employ vigilantes."

"You haven't been in Gotham long enough to understand. Why is it that a small town like Raccoon City has to have a federal special operations team helping the local police?" Batman parted the fence and held it open so Chris could enter. The young cop went through, head ducked and 9mm pointed out in front of him. He checked the area with the pistol and then slowly let it down.

"I never could quite figure that out either when I was first assigned," Chris admitted. "I mean, in hindsight I understand that Umbrella was employing the S.T.A.R.s as a sort of back-up security force. People like me and Jill and Rebecca were added to make it look legitimate to the General Accounting Office." He and Batman slowly made their way across the open compound, Chris pointing his pistol here and there, waiting for a sniper to jump out.

Batman knew there was nobody about. This company facility was about to become a ghost town and that had him worried. Umbrella had to have invested millions into this place and he couldn't reconcile the fact that they were willing to just abandon it and take the loss. He pulled out his communicator again as they huddled near a large power transformer.

"Batgirl, check for explosives. I think they mean to blow this place up and collect on the insurance money," he whispered. There were two clicks on the other end, indicating she understood.

Batgirl stopped and pulled Rebecca down to the ground. She spoke very quietly and slowly and Rebecca noted that she seemed to be a person who did not mince or waste words. "Batman thinks that they may try to blow up the facility."

"Well, duh," Rebecca said with a smile. "That's what they do. It's like their contingency plan for anything. That and kill everyone."

"I do not like murderers," Batgirl commented as they stood up. 

"How did you know what Batman said?" Rebecca asked. "I didn't see you with a radio."

Batgirl pointed to her cowl. "It has a radio device installed. It works well but messes up my hair."

"Wait till you get zombie guts in it," the young scientist told her. They were approximately a tenth of a mile away from where Batman and Chris had entered, but the pattern of lighting prevented them from seeing them. Green Arrow and Jill were halfway to the office complex by now and there was no way they would be able to see them. "Is it always so dark here?'

"You are scared?" Batgirl asked.

"Of course I am."

"Come on, we'll talk about something else," Batgirl said, taking her hand. They began small talk in low voices and soon Rebecca felt like they were schoolmates sneaking out to meet some boys. Inevitably, the conversation turned to the subject of males. 

"So, is Nightwing married in real life?" Rebecca asked as they slowly approached a long wooden building. It appeared to be some sort of on-site bunkhouse. 

"His life is complicated. He has many loves and most of them are women," Batgirl replied. "It is unfortunate that he is only one man for so many wish a piece of him."

"So…he has a girlfriend?"

Batgirl laughed. "You must learn to focus your mind on other things. Lustful thoughts impede your chi."

"Helps the libido if you know what I mean. Gosh, I'm just wondering what kind of woman marries a super-hero?" She thought about it for a minute. "You aren't married to him are you?"

Batgirl held up a finger for silence and pressed her head against the wall of the bunkhouse. Several seconds passed before he removed her head and then shook it. She repeated the action and then once again put her against the wall to listen. Finally she whispered. "There is someone in there; it sounds like they are bound and trying to get free."

"Leave them," Rebecca warned.

"I cannot. If someone needs help, then I must aid them." Batgirl slinked around the corner and approached the front door. It was a simple bunkhouse, long and probably only a single bay and restroom facilities on the inside. It reminded Rebecca of the barracks found on many military bases, except for the large Umbrella logo painted on the front.

"This must be where the Umbrella personnel stayed, not the normal chemical factory workers." The location of the bunkhouse, so far removed from the factory facility, indicated that there must have been some segregation of the Umbrella employees from the subsidiary workers. The actual chemical plant had been counted out as being used by Umbrella for any research because it was open normally for periodic inspections by government and regulatory agencies.

"Then maybe we can find some answers in the inside," Batgirl said.

Again, Rebecca warned her. Pulling out her 9mm, she pointed to the front door with it. "You may not like what you find. If we bar the door, we can always send someone in later to look."

"And if someone is being held prisoner, waiting to be executed while we stand here and argue? What then, officer?" Batgirl saw the look of remorse cross Rebecca's normally bright features. 

"You're right, but you really let me go first…"

"My costume is padded, so I have more protection," Batgirl argued. "It would be better if you watch my back."

Rebecca looked at her jeans and T-shirt. Her bullet-resistant vest had gotten shredded on her last zombie adventure and she hadn't been able to get a new one. The only thing between skin and a zombie's claws was a bra with Sylvester and Tweety on each cup. Not exactly 21st century body armor. "Okay, but if I tell you to duck, you duck," she ordered.

"So long as you make sure not to fire unless you are being threatened," Batgirl told her. "Batman will not find it very pleasing if you shoot someone I could have taken down."

"Batman isn't the one who decides procedure," Rebecca whispered as they approached the door.

Batgirl put her hand on the doorknob and gently twisted it. "In Gotham City he is."


	7. Chapter 7

Batman/Resident Evil: The Gotham Protocol

Chapter 7

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil™ is a registered product of Capcom Inc./Batman™ is a registered product of DC Comics Inc. Neither of these properties is used here with permission. This original story idea is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

"Did you ever go to school here?" the Huntress asked as she wrapped her cape around her shivering body. The temperature had dropped suddenly, an indication of an approaching storm. True to his word, Nightwing had not stopped by her apartment and she refused to put the vomit-soaked top back on. They were now standing on top of the science building of Gotham University.

"A few semesters," Nightwing answered as he scanned the area with a pair of night-vision goggles. "Academics and I just don't get along sometimes."

"More brawn then brains, eh?" she chided.

"I'm no Kirk Langstrom if that's what you're asking," he said as he lowered the goggles from his face. "He was a genius far beyond his time."

She stepped up next to him and looked into the darkness. She could see nothing other than shadows and more shadows. "So, what happened to him?"

Nightwing sighed, recalling days from his time wearing a Robin costume. They were more innocent times; days before he faced the living dead. "Langstrom was involved in a lot of projects at that time but he was most interested in curing blindness. I guess we now know he was also doing work for Umbrella as well."

"I'd think that the Wayne Foundation would have been more interested," she commented, not knowing that Nightwing was the heir to the fortune behind that august body. "They are always spending money on stuff like that." Nightwing looked at her oddly and she shrugged. "Come on, not many outside companies invest in Gotham City."

"Well, with Langstrom's reputation I'm sure his work in bat genetics caught their eye." He turned to her. "Anyway, he decided to use his 'cure' on himself and he turned into the Man-Bat. A few months back, Deathstroke was hired to capture Man-Bat." He went on to explain that it had occurred in Bludhaven where the Man-Bat creature had flown to after Langstrom had gone through another change. Nightwing had tried to stop the kidnapping, but Deathstroke, a super-powered mercenary, had gotten the best of Nightwing. "We didn't know what happened to him after that."

"I don't get it," she said as she rubbed her bare arms. "Why would Umbrella be interested in a Man-Bat when they are creating zombies?"

He shrugged. "Seems to me that Umbrella was investing a lot of money into Gotham City, before and after the quake." Not so long before, an earthquake that had been so severe that the government had declared the city a federal No Man's Land had devastated Gotham City. Only through the efforts of many people, including Lex Luthor, CEO of LexCorp and current president of the United States, was the city rebuilt. Nightwing paused. "It makes you wonder what they were doing in that facility during that time."

"God," the Huntress breathed out, remembering the horrors she had dealt with at that time. "They could have grabbed as many of the homeless and destitute…"

He shook his head and focused his attention back on the mission. "According to Oracle, Langstrom and Perot worked here along with another scientist named Maria Lupez. Lupez is now a professor here and is considered an expert in the field of cellular regeneration."

"A lot of animal experiments going on here, or at least used to be," Huntress said.

"Lupez is also an advisor to Umbrella Corporation," Nightwing said, his voice cold. "You realize what's going on, don't you?"

Huntress started to answer but she suddenly jerked, lost her balance and started to tip over the side of the roof. Nightwing could tell by the way her back was arched that she had been struck in the back. "Huntress!" he called out. He dropped to the edge and just managed to grab her hand. "I won't let you go," he promised.

"There's something in my back," she said weakly. He couldn't tell by her angle and her billowing cape. He held on with all of his strength and was about to comment that it was time to lay off the cheesecake when a black combat boot crunched the roofing material next to his face. He turned slowly and recognized Vandross.

"Looks like a bit of a bother," the mercenary said. He was still wearing the sunglasses and Nightwing guessed that he had a strong sensitivity to light. "Don't worry; my shuriken isn't poisoned. She'll live but it will take you a few precious minutes to pull her up." 

"I always heard that the English knew how to treat women with respect…chivalry and all that," Nightwing joked. He tightened his grip and tried to steady the Huntress as she swung in the wind.

"Ah, but I didn't slay the lady," he said with a smile. "Listen up, boy; you're intruding in something you shouldn't. I don't want to have the Batman chasing me all over the world, which is why I'm letting you live…"

"Have you ever thought what kind of trouble you might get into dealing with me?" Nightwing interrupted. He tried to pull the Huntress up but Vandross placed a boot on his shoulder and pressed him down.

"Boy, I am not playing games here," Vandross warned, his pleasant voice suddenly turning sinister. "I am not some psycho super-villain; I'm a professional killer."

"So I noticed," Nightwing said behind gritted teeth. He couldn't do anything so long as held the Huntress. She might survive the fall, but he couldn't be sure with a shuriken stuck in her back. "You have made a major mistake."

Vandross was silent for a second. "You know, Deathstroke once said that to me as well. I'm still here."

Vandross then lifted his foot off of Nightwing and walked away. It was several seconds before the crunching of the boots on the roof stopped and Nightwing felt it was safe to pull up his partner. It took much of his strength because his arm had started going numb. With extreme effort he hauled up over the edge and onto the roof, where despite his exhaustion, he checked her for wounds.

The shuriken had not gone deep, but it had been lodged between muscle groups and had been very painful. The Huntress put on a brave face. "Give me a few minutes and I'll be ready."

Nightwing stood up and rubbed his sore arm. "You stay here. Vandross is going after Lupez…"

"Why?"

"I suspect that Lupez knew what was going on here in Gotham. As near as I can tell, they were using the Petro Chemical plant as a place to develop an entirely new breed of advanced zombie killers. I think they were also working on a way to preserve the zombies for transport." He moved his neck to the side and popped the bones. "I'd say this is one of their major facilities and that spill six months ago that sent Perot packing must have been something really bad."

After checking on her one more time, he took off in the direction Vandross had run off in.

The door opened slowly and Batgirl stepped in, her fists up and ready to take down anyone that stood on her way. It was very possible that several guards were waiting in the building and she wasn't sure what kind of fighting skills Rebecca had.

The young scientist turned agent was right there behind her, perhaps a little too close and Batgirl motioned for her to give up a little space. Rebecca nodded and stepped back a little as Batgirl entered the room proper.

The attack was swift, for the zombie had been right there in the dark all along, right next to the door. Some residual intelligence must have told it that food would enter through that door eventually. It swiped at Batgirl, but she blocked it and lashed out with a punch of her own. It contacted with mildewed flesh and there was a spurt as liquefied and rotting tissue gave way under the force of the blow.

"Oh, sick!" Rebecca said, even though she couldn't see. The sound and the smell told her all she needed to know and she quickly brought up her mini-mag flashlight. The beam cast away the darkness and revealed a scene from hell itself.

Batgirl had no time to stop, as the zombie, now dripping chunks of lung and muscle, recovered from the blow and came at Batgirl. The young hero, though disgusted and wanting nothing more than to run away and take a bath, would not leave Rebecca alone and undefended. Batgirl kicked, her foot making contact with the spongy jaw of the zombie. 

Before she could strike again, Rebecca opened fire. Two shots exploded the zombie's skull and sprayed the wall behind it with pus and old blood. Batgirl whirled around only to find two more of the creatures approaching. Rebecca widened her beam to its maximum. "Don't fool around with these things! They are dead already! There is no cure!"

Saddened that she was forced into a situation where she would have to employ her most deadly skills, Batgirl nevertheless squared off with one of the zombies. It was clad in the remains of what appeared to be workman's coveralls; perhaps he had been a janitor? It didn't matter, she understood that. 

Rebecca fired, the muzzle flash casting a fiery glow on Batgirl's assailant, but it didn't seem to affect it. She noted that the eyes looked dead and guessed that the orbs were simply useless. A sixth sense was guiding the monster towards the warm body of Batgirl. She did a foot sweep that brought the zombie crashing down even as its partner stumbled back from three gaping holes in its chest. Batgirl back flipped away from a clawing hand and landed with her batarang in hand. A deft toss and it split the soft skull of the zombie.

Rebecca finished hers off with a close shot to the head. She then looked around and indicated to Batgirl that the shots might draw unwanted attention. Batgirl wasn't so sure. "These creatures were simply left here with no real security except a locked door."

"After someone goes through the change, they kind of become very, very stupid," Rebecca said.

"But there is a chance they could still get out?" Batgirl asked.

Rebecca considered the possibilities for a moment. "Yes, given the appropriate circumstances, I suppose it could happen…"

"A large risk, unless they were planning on something drastic, such as destroying the entire complex." Batgirl moved over to the first zombie that had been killed while Rebecca examined the room. It was an open bay as she had guessed, but it looked as if the occupants had been packing. There were several suitcases, bags and duffels scattered about, a few of them torn open. 

That wasn't the bad part.

"They've been eating each other," Rebecca finally said. The floor was littered with fresh and dried pools of gore and blood. There were chunks of rotted flesh here and there, torn clothes and mutilated, half-eaten bodies. She counted the beds and looked at the bodies. "Based on the rate of decomposition and what we know about a zombie's digestive process, I'd say this place has been closed for six months."

Batgirl walked over to her holding a card in her had that she had taken from the body. "I thought zombies 'died' after only a few weeks."

"Depends on the virus strain and whether they can get food."

"Six months ago was that chemical spill," Batgirl said as she handed over the card. She went back to see of there were any more. Minutes later she came back with some. "Do you recognize any of the names?" she asked.

Rebecca shrugged. "Not really."

Batgirl nodded and activated her throat mike and radio transceiver. "Oracle, this is Rodent Three."

"Go."

Batgirl read off the names on the cards and waited while Oracle tried to identify them. Rebecca took the opportunity to search the room to see if there was anything useful. On top of a bunk, under a desiccated finger, she found a note. She read it, but it made no sense. 

Taking the paper, she went back over next to Batgirl who was just finishing up her conversation with Oracle. Rebecca handed the note over. Batgirl read it out loud: "Security codes – E.Nigma". "They though the access codes were a riddle? That goes with Umbrella's morbid sense of humor."

"No," Batgirl said as she crushed the paper. "It means that they hired the Riddler to do their puzzles!"

"I can't get a hold of Batman," Oracle said. Green Arrow tapped his earphone, using it as an excuse to turn his head and get a better look at Jill's legs. She was at least two decades younger than him, a prime candidate to join the ranks of the "Merry Women of Sherwood Forest", as he affectionately called his list of conquests. "I think he's gone underground."

Jill bent over to pick up her lock pick kit and grab another tool. Green Arrow found it ironic that they had been able to get this far, only to be stopped by a locked glass door. They had not seen anyone or anything except for two helicopters sitting on pads a few hundred feet away. The pilots had to be sleeping they decided because Green Arrow's voiced carried too far as he described how wonderful he was.

"Look, babe, I'm sure he's somewhere promoting good conservative values with his fists while we do the work of the common man," he chided. The truth was he never worried about the Batman. Fascist or not, he was the only person Green Arrow was sure could handle any situation.

"I've got some important information," Oracle said, not missing a beat. "Batgirl and Rebecca have found a barracks full of bodies and zombies."

"Shoot! Are the kids okay?" he asked, suddenly angry that he let his groin do so much talking. He thought he had heard gunshots, but had dismissed it. This was Gotham City after all.

"They're fine, but they came across several names of the dead. I checked them all out and they ranged from common maintenance people to office types."

"Great, so Umbrella doesn't discriminate," green Arrow said, waving Jill over. She obeyed and came close, putting her ear next to his so she could listen as well.

"No…all of the people are Gotham natives. People who wouldn't leave here to go work someplace else."

"They're cleaning house," Jill announced, backing away. "They couldn't take a chance of any information getting out so they started killing them. The spill six months ago, I'll bet it was a mass contamination!"

"Then why leave now?" Green Arrow asked.

"That's easy," Jill replied. "The one thing we've noticed in our dealings with Umbrella is that they don't really care if who they are hiring are exactly sane. Madison…he infected his ex-girlfriend and scared Perot. Perot probably thought it was part of the clean-up effort and booked."

"That's what I figured as well," Oracle said. Green Arrow's receiver doubled as a microphone and she was picking up Jill's comments loud and clear. She was glad Batman had stuck somebody with more on the brain than sex with Green Arrow. Not that Green Arrow was a bad person, he was simply insatiable. "Umbrella probably figured too many mistakes were happening in Gotham City and it was only a matter of time before Batman got involved."

"Yep and then he brings the Justice League of Republicans in to save the day," the Emerald Archer added. "Probably get together and sell the place, donate money to some Texas politician…"

"Arrow!" Oracle admonished. "This is serious! Ask Jill if this sounds like any typical pattern for Umbrella."

He did as he was told and she answered. "Damn straight it is. Umbrella is closing down any and all facilities in the public eye, either moving them deep underground or overseas. It looks like this was a major set-up."

Green Arrow waited a moment and the listened as Oracle asked another question. "Computer-head wants to know if the S.T.A.R.s ever heard of a guy named Vandross?"

Jill looked away. "He's a mercenary and a thief." He didn't know why, but Green Arrow got the distinct impression there was something more personal to the story than Jill was letting on. He barely knew the woman and while that was good enough for a tumble in the sack, it didn't give him the right to pry into her private life. He wondered how Batman would react to that thought? "He's dead," she said.

"She says he ain't. Says he killed Perot in Bludhaven and is now being chased through Gotham University by Nightwing." She turned back to Arrow and there was a look somewhere between fear and hope on her face. "You okay?" he asked.

"Before I joined the S.T.A.R.s…back when my life was more gray than black and white, I had an older boyfriend. I thought he was a good man, kind, yet strong," she confessed.

Arrow nodded. "And Vandross killed him?'

Jill sighed. "No. He was Vandross."


	8. Chapter 8

Batman/Resident Evil: The Gotham Protocol

Chapter 8

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil™ is a registered product of Capcom Inc./Batman™ is a registered product of DC Comics Inc. Neither of these properties is used here with permission. This original story idea is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

"I take it the Riddler is an expert on security systems?" Chris asked as Batman knelt before the large steel door that barred their entrance into the sub-basement. They had to travel down a flight of stairs so that they were now below ground level and out of sight of potential patrols.

"The Riddler is a genius who has wasted his talents because he has obsessions beyond his ability to control, " the Dark Knight said as he traced the power lines from the locks to the control pad.

"Kind of like wearing leather and swinging from rooftops?"

Batman ignored him and stood up to read the sign over the keypad. It said in large red letters PRESS ENTER FOR ENTRANCE. There was a standard keypad with water-resistant keys. "There is no slot for an ID card," Batman murmured. 

"That's odd for Umbrella. Every facility we've infiltrated had elaborate security." He stepped up and examined the keypad. All of the numbers seemed to have the same amount of wear. "There's no Enter button," he said.

"I know; that's the riddle."

"Could it be like on a telephone? Maybe we have to spell out the word 'enter'." Batman nodded and Chris continued to explain. "Umbrella has bought up a lot of old facilities and each one is under the control of different people trying to get promoted in the company. Each one has a different idea of what security is."

Batman rubbed his chin. "I take it they've been at this for awhile."

"You don't know the half of it. We've discovered that they've had accidents several times over the years, but Raccoon City was the first one that became a public relations nightmare. They had paid off some of the higher ups in the S.T.A.R.s, but those people were incompetent." Chris shook his head. "We lost a lot of good people because of that incompetence."

Batman admired the younger man's dedication to professionalism. It was too bad he still insisted on using something as mundane as a gun. The brain was a much more powerful weapon. Batman put his thoughts aside and started pressing numbers on the keypad that corresponded to spelling out "enter" on a regular telephone.

Chris continued his narrative. "We were called in to the Spencer Estate just outside the city after several weeks of gruesome murders. A tip led the local police to the estate, which actually turned out to be a secret Umbrella testing lab. It was the first lab to show true progress in developing intelligent biological weapons." The door opened with a slight swish. "They passed on that knowledge to the other labs."

"If they were working with Man-Bat, then they must be branching out from creating weapons out of humans," Batman said as he pushed the door further open, one hand on the batarang at the small of his back.

Chris silently drew on of his pistols and flipped the safety off. "Oh, they've worked with animals plenty. I'd just say this Man-Bat thing was an opportunity they couldn't pass up."

Batman nodded and the two men fell into silence as the stepped inside. It was relatively quiet, but they could hear the hum of a generator somewhere. That made sense because they had noted that there were several upper stories to the lab. They had decided together to forego going from the top down which was normal search procedure. Instead, they were more interested in trying to run into the remaining employees trying to get out of Dodge.

Approximately fifteen feet inside, under the illumination of several soft-white bulbs, they saw tow doors on either side. The style of the doors indicated that they had not been changed since the place had been built. "According to my sources," Batman whispered, "Oliver Queen bought this plant originally from the government. This particular area was designed to survive a near-strike from a nuclear weapon."

Chris was impressed. He knew that Gotham had suffered a major earthquake in the past and had been more than a little surprised to find this section of the facility undamaged. He pointed ahead of them where another large metal door was, some fifty feet down away. "That looks fairly new," he said.

Batman nodded. "We'll check the closest doors first, at least to ensure we don't have some sneaking up behind us."

They stepped up to the first door on the right and Batman put his head to it. Hearing nothing, he tried the knob. The door came open easily and creaked as it swung. Chris winced as the sound seemed to echo through the hallway, but there was nothing they could do about it now. 

It was a lab, but it didn't look like there was anything useful in it. Several file cabinets were empty inside and the drawers had been pulled out of the desks and workbenches. Still, they entered and looked around. "This might be one of their legitimate research labs," Chris said after their searches turned up nothing.

"I had Oracle do a little research on that subject. Apparently, Umbrella has this company making various hygienic lubricants." 

"Well, they're going to need those when I put a foot in their ass," Chris said.

"The chief operating officer of this facility is reported to be a man named Felix Turner," Batman said. "What do you know of him?"

"Never heard of him, but like I said, Umbrella seems to give almost autonomous control to their people. It inspires cut throat competition between the different companies." Chris took in a deep breath. "I don't like this," he said.

"Neither do I," Batman replied and they exited the room and crossed the hallway. This time they didn't bother with subtlety. Batman simply opened the door and strode in. Again this room was empty and cleared out, though Chris did find a pistol on top of a desk. 

He examined it. "It's a standard Beretta. Could belong to the security teams."

"What security?" Batman asked. This was getting to be simply too eerie for him and he was willing to bet they were too late. Umbrella had already gotten all of their evidence out of here and he doubted they were stupid enough to leave anything he might be able to use.

Chris sniffed the gun. "This has been fired recently."

That caught Batman's attention and he went to the wall and changed the light setting from low to high. They immediately saw the bloodstains on the concrete floor. A quick scan and Chris saw small telltale splatters on the walls and ceiling. "Looks like a gunfight happened here."

Batman pointed to another door in the room that indicated it led to the restroom. "I'm going to check that, you see if there are any other clues. Chris holstered his weapon and moved to rummage through the cabinets. Batman opened the door to the restroom and Chris heard the moan of a zombie.

Batman saw the figure shuffling towards him; it had gray-green flesh that had long since lost its moisture. Judging by the condition of the pathetic creature, Batman guessed it had been inside that bathroom for a long time without any sort of nourishment.

A part of the Batman was totally disgusted by what he saw as it represented, but at the same time he felt the cold edge of fear cutting into his resolve. As the Batman, he had learned through experience what a useful weapon fear was and how it could affect even the strongest willed person. Hal Jordan, the former Green Lantern of Earth and once a friend of the Batman, had been rumored to be a man without fear. Batman always found that hard to believe.

However, Batman had trained himself to overcome his fears with resolve, to push them back into his mind until he had some quiet time to deal with them. 

"Get back!" Chris called out drawing down on the form as it entered into the light. 

"No! Don't kill it!" Batman ordered as he pulled back and brought out his batarang. Chris was cursing him and telling him to step out of the way. Batman ignored him and tossed the weapon at the zombie. It struck the creature in the thigh, but it ignored it. With his weapon stuck in the zombie's thigh, Batman resorted to his fists.

Three quick punches that would take down a much larger man did nothing but push the zombie back. It groaned and Batman smelled breath made up of decaying bacteria and rotted organs. He nearly gagged and whirled quickly. His weighted cape struck the zombie but again did no real damage.

"Get the hell out of my way!" Chris ordered again, frustrated that Batman would not get out of the line of fire.

"No!" Batman responded, giving his adversary a back-kick that cracked ribs. "We might be able to help them!"

"Are you insane?" Chris asked as the zombie stumbled just far enough way from Batman for him to get a shot off. The bullet slammed into the chest of the zombie and exploded out the back, spraying the inside of the restroom with flaking fragments of dead flash.

Batman roared in anger even as Chris shot again. Before he could fire a third time, Batman got in the way and smacked the pistol out of Chris's hand. Chris cursed and shoved the Batman. The Caped Crusader grabbed the other man's arm and twisted him into a hold. "No guns!" Batman barked.

"You stupid idiot! You can't save these people! We told you that!" Chris said through gritted teeth. He moved to get out of the hold, but Batman countered every move. "They are dead already!"

Batman got nose to nose with Chris. "There is always hope."

"Your cowl is on too tight, hero," Chris said. He had just enough tolerance for the pain to finally wrench free of the hold. He then went to knee the Batman in the groin and struck a reinforced Kevlar lined cup. His kneecap popped and he went down.

Batman turned to face the zombie, but it was down. Chris's second shot had been true, right between the eyes. Green brain matter was slowly leaking through the bullet hole and an awful stench began to fill the room. 

Chris was already getting up when the Batman confronted him. "Have you even tried to save these people, or do just shoot first and ask questions later?"

Chris rubbed his sore knee. "Don't lecture me! It's been my friends that have died, not yours! You're just mad because this has been going on in your city without your knowledge! I'm in this to avenge some good cops!"

"These are human beings!"

"No they aren't! The human part of them is dead! Don't you understand? My god, you hang around with aliens and goddesses and you can't believe in the living dead?" Chris moved over to a desk and sat down to examine his knee. "Did you not understand what we were telling you back in your Cave?"

Batman went over to retrieve his batarang and took a good look at the creature. It was so far gone that there was only the slightest hint that it once had been human. He noted there was an old bullet wound in its shoulder. He reasoned that this was whom the owner of the pistol they had found had been shooting at. "It is my opinion that you don't have the resources available to you to properly find a cure," Batman said. 

"Screw your opinion!"

"I'm offering you an alternative…"

"No," Chris barked back, suppressing the urge to throttle Batman. "What you are doing is refusing to face reality, but I suppose you wanna-be cops face that all of the time. Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think the rest of the S.T.A.R.s are stupid? Don't you think we tried to find a cure?" Chris spit on the floor. "Jesus Christ!"

"The Justice League can help," Batman offered.

"No, they can't. Under the United Nations charter and Interpol agreement that the League gains its police powers from, me and my partners are to be arrested on the spot. You're breaking the law by working with us! Once we're turned over, we disappear! That's why we need proof!"

Batman pointed to the corpse. "Then why not take a body; you seem so inclined to create so many corpses, maybe you might consider cleaning them up."

"Screw you!" Chris said, flipping the middle finger to the Batman. "If you get in my line of fire again, you better duck. I won't hesitate. I'm not getting infected or eaten because you have an obsession with protecting non-life!"

The argument was put on hold for the moment and Batman looked down at the corpse. This madness had to end, he knew, but he had to admit that Chris had at least gotten one point correct. He was angry that this had been going on in his city over the years. How many innocent people had been taken off of the streets over the course of his career.

Oliver Queen had lost this company not so long after Bruce Wayne had started being the Batman, but he had never even suspected. Every day someone disappeared in Gotham City. Runaways. People just wanting to not be found. "Victimless" crimes because you never found the victim to know there had been a crime committed. 

Securing his batarang back on his utility belt, he knelt down to get a skin sample from the zombie. In a way, he understood Chris's frustration, but Batman had not been kidding when he said he had access to resources the S.T.A.R.s didn't. He had his own degree in chemical engineering and he would take a look. That was fine for the future, but what about now?

How could he enforce his ban on killing when they were shooting those who were already dead? Did that make any difference? Law enforcement officers were allowed to defend themselves with firearms and while it irritated Batman, he would never deny those brave men and women the opportunity to maintain a proper defense.

He realized then, staring down at the already dissolving corpse that he was now fighting a war and he was facing the decisions every soldier, from the top general to the lowliest grunt, had to make. How many young men, from the trenches in France in 1917 to Desert Storm, had to ask themselves if they were willing to do what they had been taught from birth not to do. To kill.

"But you were already dead, weren't you?" Batman asked the zombie. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer, a habit he had picked up watching Alfred pay his respects at the graves of Thomas and Martha Wayne every Sunday. 

He got up and by the time he got to the door where Chris was, still rubbing his knee, he still didn't have any new answers.

"Guards," Green Arrow whispered, pointing to some shadows that were moving in a far office. He and Jill were crouched down behind an older copier, which was the only thing not ransacked on the whole floor. From the time they entered through the front door, which wasn't alarmed, they had feared they were too late.

Many of the offices were empty, some completely devoid of furniture. There were no files or computers so far for them to examine which was bad; all of the security systems were turned off, which was good. Jill had pointed out that the security cameras were not working as soon as they entered.

"We've caught them at the tail-end of the clean-up," Jill whispered. Green Arrow was busy rummaging through his quiver for a proper arrow. "You know what that means, don't you?"

Green Arrow shrugged. She smiled and gave him a wink. "You don't know a whole lot about business, do you?"

The Emerald Archer suppressed a chuckle and selected a boxing glove arrow. "I've been told more than once I belong in the bedroom, not the board room."

"Oh, I'm sure you have, grandpa," she chided and then she peeked over the copier again, keeping her pistol down at her side. Satisfied they hadn't been discovered, she slid back down to face the hero. "The farthest officer is usually the CEO's."

"Aha," Green Arrow said, catching on. "The Fat Cat in charge has the back office. Probably where he sexually assault his female employees." He saw the wry look Jill was giving him. "It's a terrible thing," Green Arrow said, his voice in a mocking tone.

The time for comedy was over, though, and Green Arrow explained that it might be best of he handled the guards himself. "Face it, sweetcheeks," he said with a killer smile. "I'm the one who's best at non-lethal take down."

"Oh, I can take any man down without firing a shot, honey," she said as she snuck over to a far corner. She would provide cover in case he couldn't handle the situation. Green Arrow shook his head and stepped out from behind the copier. He got halfway down the passageway of cubicle walls before he was spotted.

The guard was dressed in black fatigues and sported an M-16 style military rifle. There was a twang of the bowstring and the boxing glove arrow took the man down before he realized what was happening. His fall, however, alerted his companions and two armed men came rushing out, bringing their rifles up. 

A thin-shafted arrow, specially designed for plugging gun barrels, handled the first weapon, but the second guard got a shot off. Green Arrow jumped into a cubicle being trailed by a line of shots as the guard went to full automatic. "Ah, the distinct sound of conservative negotiating techniques!" he shouted over the sound of the weapon.

Then there were two quick shots from what Green Arrow knew was not a rifle, but a pistol. There was some cursing from one of the guards and he heard something hit the floor. He came up with a regular arrow notched, only to see Jill coming from the side, her weapon in front of her. The barrel was smoking and he noted that there was a bullet-ridden rifle on the ground and both guards had their hands up.

"That's it boys," Jill said in an authoritive tone. "Keep them in the air."

Green Arrow joined her and within sixty seconds, they had found some duct tape to bind the guards up. Green Arrow immediately noticed that they were nervous and suspected it had to do with what they had been doing. As Jill kept them covered and searched their pockets.

The office was not bare, but was outfitted in furniture that appealed to the millionaire side of Green Arrow. It made him uncomfortable because he wondered how many human souls had been sold in order to outfit this space. He pushed it out of his mind and wandered over to the boxes that were being packed and examined them.

They were full of various pornographic magazines and videotapes, many of them on subjects that made Green Arrow queasy. Disgusted, he stepped out of the office and questioned the prisoners. Their answers did not make him feel warm and fuzzy.

"All of the computers and stuff were taken out earlier in the week; the only thing left is the security mainframe," one of them said.

"Yeah, but its manned 24-7," the other said. The third one was still out cold. 

"Where is it?" Jill asked.

The guards were both examining her legs and Green Arrow coughed. "Oh! On the next floor up," the first guard said. "Now let us go! We're just rent-a-cops…"

"You mean Lease-A-Pig?" Green Arrow asked. "You girls just sit tight."

"If you're lucky, we'll remember to come back and get you," Jill said and she led Green Arrow away. When they were out of hearing range she explained what she had found out. "These aren't the normal security. They cleaned out the elite teams two weeks back."

"Makes sense," Green Arrow said, rubbing his beard. "Do you think we'll find anything in security control."

She shrugged. "Chances are we'll run into one of the real security people, somebody in the know. Would you trust your security system to them?"

Green Arrow looked back and shook his head. "Beauty and brains. Where have you been all of my life?'

She checked pistol and slid it back into her holster. "Hell, for most of your life I wasn't even born!"


	9. Chapter 9

Batman/Resident Evil: The Gotham Protocol

Chapter 9

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil™ is a registered product of Capcom Inc./Batman™ is a registered product of DC Comics Inc. Neither of these properties is used here with permission. This original story idea is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

Rebecca dropped the clip out of her pistol and checked it. Satisfied that she had enough ammunition for the time being, she slammed it home and locked a round in the chamber. Batgirl said nothing; the time for lectures was long past. While the young hero shared many of Batman's views, she understood and accepted that there were times that people not trained as well as the "Bat Family" had to resort to other methods to defend themselves.

Batgirl was impressed with the restraint Rebecca demonstrated with the use of her weapon. So many people would fire off every round they had to deal with the walking dead. Did that mean Rebecca was a true professional or worse, was she so used to the horror of the zombies that it didn't shock her anymore?

They had made one more round through the barracks just to make sure they left no stone unturned and then exited the building. Rebecca locked the door as they left. "Wouldn't want anyone to stumble in there. Lord only knows what sort of biohazards are still in there!"

"Should we contact the Gotham HazMat team?" Batgirl asked, concern in her voice.

Rebecca shook her head. "Not until we secure the area. There's more zombies around, believe me. Most likely locked up, possibly with some still live humans. Plus Batman said something about explosives…"

"You're right," Batgirl said and they crept over to the next building. "I wonder, if they use sufficient demolitions to render this place to dust, would there be a chance of hazardous materials getting into the air?"

The S.T.A.R.s medic thought about it for a moment as she watched Batgirl put her head to the wall. Hearing nothing, they continued on. "The virus, or at least most of the strains I've encountered, does not last long in the air. I would be concerned about the water table though; the virus seems to thrive in aquatic environments." Batgirl cast a glance towards the on-site sewage treatment plant. 

"We'll check there next," she said, pointing to it. It didn't seem to be active and there was no strange odor in the air, but there was no sense in not being careful. Batgirl silently made conversation as they moved along. "Does the virus only affect humans?"

"No…beware of dogs," Rebecca said. As if she were clairvoyant, she suddenly stopped and pointed. There were three distinct silhouettes coming out from a small shack next to the treatment plant. They were canine. "Crap," she said as the dogs started to move closer.

Batgirl did not relish combating innocent animals but when the first one slowly came into view, she changed her mind. Its skin was pulled back and rotted in many areas. Most of the lower jaw was skinless, held together by sinewy strands of brown tissue. The tongue hung out a hole in the jaw and it dripped what looked to be blood.

Its companions were in no better shape; one even had a bloated stomach that drug on the ground with an alarming squishy sound. The alpha dog tried to growl, but it came out like something drowning and it hacked up green bile from its lungs. Rebecca commented that they were in the final stages of the disease, the point where complete breakdown was only hours away. "They are at their most infectious," she said. "Watch the teeth."

Batgirl nodded and the two women slowly moved apart, the dogs watching them both, their diseased minds trying to determine fight or flight. When the farthest one hunkered down and started to come towards Batgirl, she pulled out her batarang and let it fly. The heavy weapon whirled through the air and something deep inside the dog's limited mind took over. It jumped into the air and tried to grab the batarang of the air like it was a razor-sharp Frisbee. The weapon cut the animal's skull in half, severing what was life of its brain from the spinal cord. 

With a wet thump, the animal fell to the ground. The other dogs immediately set upon the carcass. Rebecca pulled her weapon and flipped the safety off. Carefully, she lined up on one of the dogs as it feasted on the spoiled meat of its comrade. She looked to Batgirl, who simply turned away. A squeeze of the trigger killed the first one, while two more shots took down the last. 

The air was now filled with the scent of fresh death. Rebecca holstered the pistol and the two resumed their trek to the sewage plant. When they got there, they found a cesspool of filth and grime. It was obvious that the plant had not been running for a long while. "They must have bribed the EPA inspector," Rebecca announced.

"Or killed him," Batgirl offered. She refused to get too close to the filth, but Rebecca moved to the pool's edge in order to obtain a sample.

"I doubt it," Rebecca said as she squatted down and carefully put a small glass tube in the liquid. "Umbrella really does prefer to bribe government officials. In the end, it helps them more than hinders them."

"They try to kill S.T.A.R.s agents…"

Rebecca nodded slowly. "At the Spencer Estate, they killed my entire team, the Bravos. That was unexpected, though. Their intent was to buy off the top agents and let them control the lower ones."

"Why is it that you do not go to the press?" Batgirl asked, suddenly curious.

"With what? We need hard evidence, not just a few bodies and some wild stories. Umbrella has trillions of dollars and a million lawyers. People are willing to believe a lie more than the truth unless the truth is so awful it cannot be forgotten." Rebecca finished gathering her sample and placed it inside a small fanny pack. "There were many people who believed that the concentration camps in World War 2 were a hoax until the allies invaded Germany."

Batgirl knew she was correct and became even more determined to try and help the S.T.A.R.s get what they needed. She moved over to the small shack and gave it a quick scan. It was darker here than ion some of the other spots on the grounds and she noted that they were near the road that led to the back of the office building. She switched to her night-vision lenses and immediately picked up on a strange object near the pumping station.

Moving quickly, she scrambled over a small fence and landed near the object. It was a bomb. Rebecca was soon behind her. "Can you diffuse it?" she asked.

Batgirl shrugged. "I'll contact Oracle," she said as she re-established her link with the mysterious cyber-hero. After explaining the situation, Oracle ordered her to switch her cowl lenses to transmit. In her apartment in Gotham City, Barbara Gordon, the woman who was really Oracle and the original Batgirl, watched on the monitor. Through the magic of science and technology, she was able to view what her younger friend was looking at.

"This is beyond anything I've ever seen," Oracle told her. "Hold on while I connect to the Cave." There was a pause and Rebecca took the opportunity to look around the shack. She found a dissolving corpse of another dog. Satisfied that there were no others ready to leap out at them, she returned to Batgirl who was conferring with Arsenal.

"Hell, yeah," the archer said from several miles away. "I can tell you how to disarm it, but I have some really bad news. That's only one on a link." He went on to explain that years before, when he had been a government agent with Checkmate, he had been given extensive instruction on bombs. "That's a top of the line job, mercenary-type stuff. Probably set up by this Vandross guy that Nightwing is playing footsy with."

Nightwing caught the boot in the jaw and he went down again, fearing that he would soon be spitting teeth. "I told you to stay away, boy," Vandross said calmly as he looked down at the hero. Nightwing started to struggle to his feet and the mercenary grinned. "Damn you've got brass ones," he said as a compliment.

If the hero was grateful, he didn't show it. As he stood and wiped the blood away from his lip, he brought his fists up again. He was a little shaky on his feet and fighting in the close confines of a university building passageway wasn't ideal for a man accustomed to combat in the open, but he was determined to stop the mysterious Umbrella soldier. "I will not let you kill another person," Nightwing told him.

Vandross sighed and put his arms to his sides. "All right, little man, take your best shot."

Nightwing didn't even pause. He landed a right hook and followed it up with a quick left. They were blows that would knock out most professional boxers. Vandross simply smiled. "I don't feel pain," he said as Nightwing kicked him in the groin. The mercenary yawned. "Nope."

Stepping back, Nightwing reevaluated his situation. "You're Kryptonian, aren't you?" he guessed. It was the only thing that made sense. He had seen the vision powers and now there was invulnerability.

"Partially; my DNA has been altered with samples of Superman's very own genetic structure," Vandross said, seemingly proud of it. Nightwing took another swing, but he dodged it and gave the hero a knock in the back of the head with his elbow. "As I said, you don't want to cross me, boy."

Nightwing spun around, dropped and tried a foot sweep, but his adversary simply jumped up and away. As he landed, Vandross reached into his black trench coat and grabbed a bolo. Before he could tell what was happening, Nightwing found his legs trapped in the line.

He fell hard onto the cold tile and the air rushed from his lungs. "I've been doing this sort of thing for years, boy; I'm not about to be stopped by an apprentice."

"I'm so going to enjoy putting you in prison," was the terse reply. Nightwing struggled against the bonds, more angry with himself than with Vandross. The mercenary made no move to exploit his advantage, treating Nightwing like he was a bad child as opposed to someone who was a real threat.

"You are trying my patience; like I said, I don't want the Batman coming after me…"

"And like I said, I'm your immediate problem," Nightwing responded.

Vandross shook his head and stepped over the hero. Nightwing went for his knees, but Vandross kicked him back, loosening some more teeth. Nightwing then felt the darkness moving in to swallow him and then he felt nothing.

"Damn, he is fine up close," a disembodied voice called out as Nightwing started to return to the world of the awakened. He opened his eyes slowly to see two figures standing over him. One of them was a little too close and smiling. "I think he's awake!"

The other figure bounced and Nightwing immediately recognized it as female; most likely they were both students. They had untied him from the bolo and he started to rise. The second figure, which turned out to be male, helped him to his feet. "Gosh, what big muscles he has," the man said.

Nightwing shook his head, but said nothing immediately. His jaw was sore; in fact, he was sore all over. He started to step forward, but tripped. The male student grabbed him, while the girl gasped. "Easy, big guy," the male said. "You've taken quite a beating."

"Do you need a doctor?" the girl asked.

"Massage?" the man asked.

Nightwing thanked them, saying he was fine and managed to break free of the man's grasp. He started to stumble down the hallway, telling them to contact campus security. He glanced up at a clock and realized he was most likely too late. He had been out cold for over a half hour.

When he finally reached the lab that held the former partner of Kirk Langstrom, he found her dead from a broken neck. Nothing fancy about it, just a simple execution. He knelt next to the body and sighed, finally pulling out his radio transmitter. "Babs?" Nightwing said silently.

"Here, loverboy," was the response. Over the many years they had known each other, Oracle and Nightwing had danced many times in the ballroom of romance. Currently, they were not a couple, but their friendship and feelings for each other went very deep still. "You'll be happy to know that I've got Dinah coming out to get the Huntress."

Dinah was the real name of the Black Canary, a hero that worked with Oracle often in the Birds of Prey, a semi-private super-hero group. She was also the former girlfriend of Green Arrow. Most of all, she was a trusted ally. The fact that she was coming in to get the Huntress made Nightwing feel a little better. "I wasn't able to save my target," he announced.

There was a brief pause. "Don't feel too bad, according to the information I've gotten, this Vandross is as dangerous as Deathstroke."

Even though she couldn't see him, he shook his head anyway. "That doesn't matter; he's the bad guy and I'm the good guy." He looked again at the corpse, realizing that the dead woman had most likely been a morally challenged individual if you considered whom she had been working for, but it didn't matter. Like the Batman, Nightwing did not make any life worth more than another. A life was a life.

The fact that she had not been killed in the same way as Dr. Perot told the hero something. "He's in a hurry now," he commented.

"No doubt on his way to Umbrella labs that Batman is looking into," Oracle replied. She then filled Nightwing in on what was going on there, including the bomb that Batgirl had found. 

Nightwing cursed silently. "Then I'm going to wait here and try to talk to Commissioner Gordon privately." It was ironic that he had to do that when Oracle was actually the daughter of the veteran police officer. Because of the nature of being a super-hero with a secret identity, they could not use her as a link to Gotham City law enforcement without jeopardizing their entire operation. "Is Batgirl confident she can disarm the bomb?"

"Arsenal is but he's afraid they won't be able to get to all of them." There was a brief pause and Nightwing found himself speaking to Arsenal.

"Hey, Wingster," Arsenal said cheerfully. "No problem with that bomb and Batgirl is having Rebecca scout for some more. There is a possibly benefit to the type of explosives they're using, though. Without being there exactly, I can't tell, but if they hooked up the explosives to run off of one trigger, then disabling the first one may have disabled them all."

Nightwing saw red and blue flashing lights outside the window and sighed. "You have to be there to check?"

"No, but we'll need to find at least one more bomb for me to be sure," Arsenal replied.

Nightwing asked to be kept updated on the situation and then signed off, replacing the radio into his utility belt. He rubbed his sore jaw, realizing that he had underestimated Vandross. He had expected the man to try to kill him, but instead the mercenary seemed more intent on just embarrassing him.

He also thought about what Vandross had said about having some Kryptonian DNA. What exactly did that mean? He knew that Umbrella had been looking at creating metahumans; that was no secret. Many successful technology companies were involved in such activities and it wasn't considered illegal. Abuse of a corpse or experimenting on non-volunteers was. 

As the sirens grew louder, Nightwing slowly made a circuit of the lab. It was a typical university lab, nothing strange. The instructor's desk had been rifled and there was a laptop sitting on top of it. He checked it to find that the hard drive had been taken out. There was no computer case either. Vandross had grabbed all of her important personal items.

He checked the file cabinet and found only school-related items. There was no way he could get to her private office before the police and campus security arrived. He didn't expect to find anything useful and so he made his way back to the body. He searched it and was surprised to find a hand-held computer. 

He turned it on only to find it was passworded and he would have to give it to Oracle. By taking it, he was violating the law, but if it saved lives in the end, it would be worth it.

A few minutes later, he heard voices and footsteps coming down the hallway outside the lab and he stood up, trying to appear somewhat in control of the situation. He was sure his body was as black and blue as his costume. Three figures entered the room, all dressed in paramilitary gear. They weren't campus security, nor were they GCPD S.W.A.T. Nightwing had grown up around the cops of this city and he practically knew all of them by face, but these three were strangers.

There were two men, large military types with buzzcuts and permanent scowls. They were holding M-16 rifles. The obvious leader was a small, yet stunningly beautiful woman of Asian descent carrying a very large pistol. She gave Nightwing a once over and then glanced down at the body.

Her eyes went back to Nightwing and he straightened. He recognized the patch on her arm. "I'm Sheri Yokama, Metropolis S.T.A.R.s; what the hell are you doing here?"

"A little out of your jurisdiction, aren't you?" Nightwing said. The two men stepped forward and pointed their rifles at Nightwing's chest. He put his hands up.

"We're federal agents, the whole damn country is our jurisdiction," she replied. Her face suddenly took on a menacing visage and she went from desirable to frightening. "I'll ask one more time and then I'm taking you into custody, hero."

"I'll give my story to the locals when they get here," was the response.

One of the men locked a round in the chamber of their rifle. "Wrong answer, smart-ass."


	10. Chapter 10

Batman/Resident Evil: The Gotham Protocol

Chapter 10

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil™ is a registered product of Capcom Inc./Batman™ is a registered product of DC Comics Inc. Neither of these properties is used here with permission. This original story idea is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

Batman and Chris continued on in silence. The Dark Knight getting more upset with each passing moment, but not at the young cop. Instead, Chris's words echoed constantly through Batman's keen mind as he realized how blind he really had been over the years. It brought along with it so many more questions.

Was the reason why Batman didn't look into white-collar crimes because he himself was a member of the financial elite? Despite all of the efforts he put into his war on crime, did he subconsciously look the other way for his powerful and wealthy peers? Any other time he would have denied it, but then he remembered how many times over the years Green Arrow had accused him of that very thing. Was he really part of the fascist/capitalist machine of corporate America?

Chris, on the other hand, spent his quiet time wondering if perhaps Jill and Rebecca's hero worship was misplaced. He had always heard that the Batman was some sort of genius, a master crime fighter. What was now leading the way was more of a mystery; a man who tried to put up a front that he was the definition of action, yet hesitated to do what needed to be done.

They stepped to the next set of doors in the main passageway and quietly listened. The only sound was Chris's breathing. The door to their left was marked OPERATING ROOM; it was directly across from the LUNCHROOM. "Lovely layout," Chris whispered. 

Batman said nothing but pointed to the operating room door, indicating that he wanted to try there first. Chris nodded and they slowly entered. The door did not creak, but the smell was so bad it could have had sound. It screamed into their nostrils and Chris had to fight his gag reflex. 

A zombie was inside, slowly devouring a body. It was a bloated creature, having gorged itself on the abundance of dead bodies in the room. Chris immediately counted at least six corpses, fresh ones, strewn about the room. Batman's knuckles cracked as he made a fist and rushed the creature. 

The zombie turned it's head and saw the bat-shaped figure approaching and Chris was amazed that it actually flinched in fear. It dropped the arm it had been chewing on and rolled away just in time to avoid the coming fist. It made an attempt to scream, but it came out as a high-pitched moan. Batman was quick to follow up and Chris thought at first he was insane with rage.

When Batman stopped his attack to examine the bodies around where the zombie had been, Chris understood that the Caped Crusader was looking for survivors. The zombie was far enough away that Chris didn't hesitate to draw and pull the trigger. His gun, however, refused to comply and it jammed.

He thought he heard a "Ha!" from Batman, but he dismissed while he drew his second weapon. The zombie realized that Batman was a human, warm and tasty, and regained it's inhuman composure. It swung and it nails raked across the hero's heavy boot, digging into the leather. By reflex, Batman kicked out with a strike meant to disable, but it caught the creature on the shoulder, dislocating it. The monster gasped only because its lungs deflated, but it soon recovered. 

Batman again kicked out and nearly tripped over a half-eaten corpse. It was like trying to fight in Purgatory Batman thought as he avoided a third attempt to turn him into a meal. The pale light just managed to catch the zombie's eyes and Batman searched them for any intelligence. There was none, not even the pleading look of a trapped soul. Anything that made the thing sentient was gone.

He wasted no more time and pulled out his batarang and hooked a rope to it. Maybe he could trap the thing until a cure could be found. Chris's gun prevented Batman from getting the chance to find out. Three shots disintegrated the zombie's head, leaving a splattering of flesh-like paste on the wall. Batman shook his head and put the batarang away. There was no sense making his feelings known. It was a matter of faith now; Batman believed he could find a cure and Chris thought he already had it.

"Christ," Chris said as he put his weapon away. He looked at the carnage on the floor and turned to look at the walls. "It doesn't make sense; why couldn't they get out? The door wasn't locked."

Batman reached down for the stump of an arm. "No hands. Umbrella cut their hands off so they couldn't get out." Chris saw that the hand had been removed at the wrist neatly, not chewed off, as one would expect. The end was blackened as well.  "They cauterized the wound."

Chris blew out. "This was personal."

Batman agreed and they set about trying to discover what they could from the remains. In the end they learned nothing more. "Have you ever seen carnage like this?" Chris asked.

Batman was silent for a second. "Yes," he said and then he changed the subject. "This is getting too deep. We need to let the local police know so they can evacuate the area."

Chris wasn't sure about that. 'We don't know if the GCPD is infiltrated…"

"I don't care," Batman said. "I'll admit that perhaps I underestimated the evil that Umbrella was willing to commit itself to…this is beyond simple corporate scandal or a CEO trying to cover his crimes. This is something almost biblical in its horror."

Chris wanted to argue, to tell Batman that they had tried to explain the situation to the heroes, but he realized it wouldn't do any good. He turned away as Batman tried to raise Oracle on his radio and he stared at the pile of bodies. Had he become so accustomed to death and pain that it no longer affected him? Was he becoming a zombie himself, feeding off his mission? Had his emotions ceased to work in order to keep his mind from shattering?

He wondered how long it would be before he put on a leather costume and started swinging from rooftops. "I can't get through," Batman said. He cast a glance to the overhead. "This could have served as a bomb shelter. Probably shielded."

"Do you want to step outside?" Chris asked.

Batman looked to the door leading out; it seemed inviting him to step out of the grave and into the light. He resisted temptation. Every second counted. "I'll try in every room; maybe some of them are newer additions."

Chris didn't argue and fell in behind the Batman as he pressed forward.

"I do not understand," Batgirl said. Rebecca could not know it, but the young woman inside the Batgirl costume had spent most of her life unable to speak. She had been taught to express herself with violence by her father, a mercenary/assassin. Things such as slang still escaped her. "I'm within what kind of hair of blowing myself up?"

Arsenal's jolly laugh filled her cowl. "You are a riot, BG," the archer said. "If only you were a little older!"

"Oh, yes, it does break my heart," she responded as she returned her attention to the mess of wires. Rebecca stood behind her with a flashlight and shined it down. "So, you do not want me to cut the green wire?"

"Right, cut the green with the light green stripe," Arsenal told her. His voice suddenly took on a commanding tone. In an instant, he could revert to his selfish, pig-like demeanor but for the moment he was ready to teach her the intricacies of bomb disarmament. "Just make sure to keep those Bat-clippers away from that green wire."

"You actually call them Bat-clippers?" Rebecca asked. She was close enough that she could just pick up the sound of Arsenal's voice.

Batgirl cut the wire. "As I understand it, Arsenal used to ride around in the Arrow-Car."

Rebecca did not immediately respond, but instead did a quick scan. She felt like she was being watched. "Yeah, well it was cool back then," Arsenal told Batgirl. "You just wait, pretty soon you'll be asking 'dad' for the keys to the Batmobile…"

"Something's out there," Rebecca said. Batgirl slowly stood up and switched her lenses to telephoto. She didn't see anything and switched over to starlight. There was still nothing. "Are you sure?" she asked.

Rebecca took a small step forward and pointed to a section of fence at the very back end of the property. There was a single, dimmed light in the corner. "I saw someone hop the fence."

"It could be kids," Batgirl said. "We cannot allow them to wander the property alone."

"What about the bombs?" Arsenal asked, slightly miffed that his view had been taken away. Rebecca was very nice from the back he had decided. 

"We will continue our sweep in that direction," Batgirl announced. Then she added an afterthought. "It might be prudent to get the GCPD bomb squad out here."

"Problem there," Arsenal confessed. "According to Oracle, Nightwing has a good deal of the night shift tangled up with a murder or something at Gotham University. Plus, we're under orders not to call anyone without Batman's permission."

Batgirl clenched her fist in a sign of youthful rebellion. Batman was her hero and she respected him above all other men for his dedication to life, but sometimes he was just too anal-retentive for her tastes. "Green Arrow could override…"

"Right, Green Arrow, the captain of the good ship Liberal, is going to invite the forces of fascism in to save his life," Arsenal snickered. "Well, he might…I'll try contacting him. Oracle is busy with Nightwing."

"I could go for getting busy with Nightwing," Rebecca said under her breath. Batgirl's jaw dropped behind her mask. She had known Rebecca was interested but she hadn't realized she was _that_ interested in her friend. She imagined the two of them together for a brief moment; her face was wide with a smile.

"Please see to it, Arsenal," Batgirl said as she signed off. She and Rebecca started towards the fence. The plan was to move along it towards the back of the property, looking for any building or place where it would be logical to place a bomb. 

They didn't talk but instead searched diligently, covering the fifth of a mile to the spot where Rebecca had seen the figure hop the fence. There were boot prints in the mud. Batgirl knelt before them. "Military issue, somebody weighing about two hundred pounds," she commented and then she turned her head back the way they came. "Whomever it was went on the other side of the buildings and is headed directly for the office complex."

"Another of your people?" 

Batgirl stood up and considered the list of suspects. "The only one not accounted for would be Robin and he doesn't weigh that much. This is someone else, someone in a hurry."

Jill beat on the large door again with the butt of her pistol. "Open the damn door!"

"Go screw yourself, lady!" a voice called out.

Green Arrow sat a few feet away on top of a recently cleaned-out desk. The guard on the inside of the computer room was not willing to open the door, despite everything from threats to more threats. The Emerald Archer had suggested that Jill disrobe in order to entice the guard out but she had flatly refused. "If he's real Umbrella security, then he's being paid enough to have all the women he wants," she commented. 

"No faith in yourself," he had said. She replied with a single finger gesture.

She continued to beat on the door, almost desperate to get in. He understood the power of information and that room could hold the Fort Knox of incriminating evidence, but they weren't going to get going by their current plan. He had suggested using an explosive arrow but after she had checked the door out, she was afraid the resulting damage might hurt the computers.

Green Arrow had noted that she showed no real concern for the guard. It had been a letdown for him, but what had he really expected? She was a cop and though she seemed honest enough and willing to buck the system when necessary, she still represented what he saw as part of the problem with America.

The corporations would throw their support behind politicians, who in turn appointed attorney generals and other top law-enforcement officials. Those people would then be bought off by the corporations and eventually all of the cops, good or bad, were part of the same machine. The only way to fight for the innocent was by not being answerable to anyone.

"How about I talk to him?" Green Arrow offered.

Jill decided it couldn't hurt and besides, it would give her a break from his constant hitting on her. He was an attractive man, that was for sure, but she could tell that for all of his preaching, he didn't consider women as part of his great melting pot. Green Arrow was the kind of person who felt everyone deserved to be treated fairly until they got into his bedroom.

In that respect, he was like most of the men Jill had encountered in her life. The curse of being a pretty girl was you attracted the ugliest of souls. 

She had a brief memory of Vandross and the day of their break-up, when she had informed him of her decision to accept an offer to become a S.T.A.R.s agent. He had called her crazy and she had asked him to go with her. "Sorry, love," he had said, "but there's no profit in protecting the innocent."

Green Arrow stepped up to the door and looked at the small camera that was providing live-feed into the room. "Buddy, I know you think that you're just doing your job. You consider yourself an honest Joe, a working-class stiff just trying to earn an honest buck. You want to do the best job you can and I can respect that.

"But you have to see what's going on; you aren't stupid or else you wouldn't be in there running all of that equipment. People are dying, buddy, good people, people who want to earn a paycheck just like you. It isn't fair that they, that those corporate blowholes, bring in millions of dollars on the souls of the people who have died here! "

"Oh shut up!" the guard called out. "Do you think I give a crap? I'm not ruining my 401K over a bunch of bums and street people!"

Green Arrow shook his head and took a few steps back before pulling out his explosive arrow. Jill ordered him to put it back but he ignored her. He sighted on the doorknob, the weakest link in the security chain and let the arrow fly. Jill cursed and jumped behind the desk as the arrow made contact.

The shockwave knocked Jill flat and when she got up to brush the remnants of ceiling tile off of her, she saw Green Arrow down on the floor. It was obvious he wasn't awake and his hat was still rocking slightly next to him where it had fallen. Jill rushed over to him and just dodged a hammy fist. She kicked back, catching the large guard in the groin.

He went down with a whimper and she looked to where he had come out. The heavy door had been thrown straight in where it crushed a computer station. The guard only had to stand to the side and the door would have missed him and absorbed most of the explosion. 

While the guard rubbed his wounded manhood and cried tears of true pain, Jill flipped him over and cuffed him. "You have the right to tell me what you know or I'm going to examine the family jewels again!" she warned.

"What the hell kind of cop are you?" the guard said from behind heavy tears.

"A pissed-off one," she said, kicking him in the shoulder. "What do you know about the zombies?"

"I don't know nothin'," the guard replied, defiant.

Jill kicked him again. "Then I'm about to educate you in the lessons of pain."

It took five more kicks before he finally blurted out that most of the specimens, the good ones, had been hauled off weeks before. The only things that were really left were the clean-up crew and the final experiments. He even started to discuss the measures that were being taken for those employees that were deemed security risks when the conversation was abruptly ended.

A large Bowie knife struck the guard in the base of the neck. A perfect kill. Jill turned with her weapon out. "You!"

Vandross took a deep breath and let it out. It was obvious he had been running but he wasn't sweating very much. The breath seemed to be more for effect. "Hello, Jill, long time no see, love."

"You move and I'll shoot," she told him. He noted that her gun was starting to slowly dip.

"Won't do any good, honey," he told her. He opened his coat and slowly went for his pistol. With a casual toss, he threw it to the floor.

She laughed. "I know better; I've stripped you down before."

He flashed her a smile and adjusted his sunglasses. "I guess you have, but you'll find I'm a little different now."

"I heard you died," she said.

He shrugged. "I did. I'm back. It happens all of the time. Modern science performs the miracles of God at half the effort."

"I can't believe you're in league with these people. It's one thing to hire yourself out as a soldier, its another to support genocide," she said. 

If the verbal stab wounded him, he didn't show it. "And here I am…one of the blokes that actually believed the Nazis at Nuremberg were just following orders." He took a step towards her and she didn't say anything. "You are so in over your head this time, Jill. Come with me, I can get you out of here."

"And what's the price, Sebastian? Will I have to die and be reborn as a jerk like you?"

"Always so quick to judge, how I missed you," he replied as he took another step.

"I thought I was in love with you, but I was young and stupid," she said as he moved even closer. She flipped the safety off. "Don't think for a second I haven't grown up."


	11. Chapter 11

Batman/Resident Evil: The Gotham Protocol

Chapter 11

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil™ is a registered product of Capcom Inc./Batman™ is a registered product of DC Comics Inc. Neither of these properties is used here with permission. This original story idea is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

The two Metropolis S.T.A.R.s agents stepped a little closer towards Nightwing and the hero kept his arms up. He had no way of knowing if these were simply over-zealous cops doing their jobs or paid-off thugs with badges here to finish cleaning up the mess left behind by Vandross. Their leader help up a hand. "Company," she said, inclining her head to the door. 

A large man whose girth nearly was stopped from entering by the inadequacy of the doorframe stepped in, half of an unlit cigar in his mouth. He pushed back the dirty fedora on his head and stepped in just enough to allow several members of the GCPD to follow him in. "What in the hell is going on here?" Detective Harvey Bullock asked. The Gotham City cops surrounded the room occupants. One of the younger officers, his weapon drawn, ordered the S.T.A.R.s to drop theirs.

"We're federal agents…" Sheri started to answer.

"And I'm being audited by the IRS," Bullock said as he stepped through the ring. One of the male agents tried to intimidate Bullock by waving his shotgun. The detective eyed him sheepishly and then shook his head. "Put that back, boy."

"Hi, Harvey," Nightwing said, his hands still up. 

Bullock grumbled out a curse word. "Should have known one of you freaks would be involved." He cast an eye at the dead body. "Who killed the stiff?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out," Sheri said. The ire in her voice was plainly apparent. While the two cops began to argue over jurisdiction, Nightwing surveyed the lay of the land and came up with at least three possible escape scenarios. Bullock seemed to sense what Nightwing was doing.

"You're gonna sneak out of here the first chance you get, aren't you?" he asked.

Sheri shook her head. "No he isn't. This is a case within the scope of a federal investigation into the activities of several rogue agents. This person is to be taken in and questioned."

Bullock laughed. "You sound like me a few years ago, sweet cheeks." Sheri's face burned at the comment, but Bullock didn't show any concern. "He didn't kill the girl."

"I could care less about her; what I'm more concerned with is what she was doing!"

Bullock looked around the office. There were the charts, posters and book stacks that you would expect to find in a university professor's personal workspace. "I didn't know that being a pig was a federal offense," he commented dryly. Several of his men smiled at the joke.

"If that were true, I'm sure I'd be reading you your rights," Sheri replied. Her men smiled this time. She then stepped up to Bullock and put her hands on her hips. He was at least three times her mass and it was an ironic scene to behold, something akin to Goldilocks scolding Papa Bear. "We believe that this woman was associated with several bad agents. We needed to question her and you friend was found standing with her dead body. I'd like to know why."

"Ask him," Bullock said, chomping on his stogie.

"I did, but he's being uncooperative," she said.

There were several snickers from the Gotham cops. Bullock pulled the cigar out of his mouth and gave her a sorrowful look. "I can't imagine one of Batman's cronies not standing around to answer questions."

Sheri turned back to Nightwing. "I don't suppose…what?" She moved to where Nightwing had been and found naught but air. "Where is he?"

"They do that lady," one cop said, holstering his gun.

"Yep, once had Batgirl in a corner," another one started.

"Which one? The new one or the redhead with the jugs?"

A female cop snickered. "They weren't big enough to be called jugs, O'Malley!"

Sheri stared in disbelief as the local cops treated Nightwing's vanishing act as part of simple procedure. Medical technicians then came in to examine the body. Bullock had already moved to start setting up a perimeter when Sheri caught up with him. "You let a federal witness escape!"

"I didn't do nothin' of the kind! I didn't see him leave," Bullock answered. Then he smiled to her. "You were blocking my view."

Sheri growled and stomped away, swearing to bring down every federal agency from the FBI to president's personal chef on the heads of the GCPD. Her men fell in behind her and they pushed their way through the throng of beat cops and campus security. Out in the parking lot, Sheri was still fuming. "This is B.S.!" she said as she kicked a Gotham City squad car.

"Take it easy, sarge," one of the men said. "S.T.A.R.s has a whole file on this Nightwing guy. We'll figure out where he went to."

"It isn't that, Jones," she responded as she fished for her pack of cigarettes. "The president himself is involved. I don't know why, but he is and I've screwed up." As if on cue, her cell phone rang. "Yokama," she said sternly. Her expression suddenly changed and she threw down the cigarette. "Yes, Mr. President."

President Lex Luthor turned his chair so he could look outside the window of the Oval Office. "I see, Sergeant," he said. "Please, continue your investigation." He hung up the phone and spoke into the air. "Damn it! I would have laid money that I had them this time!"

An advisor, one of several hundred, stepped forward to take the phone. "Of course, Mr. President; your information was flawless. The CIA was simply a step behind Umbrella Corporation's own security and intelligence services."

"I could have taken down one of LexCorp's primary competitors!" he cried out as he slammed his fist into his palm. "I know they've developed something good…"

The Central Intelligence Agency, under the guidance of Luthor's own handpicked director, had put in a considerable amount of effort into investigating Umbrella's activities. The cover story was that since the incident at the Spencer Estate, there was a real security concern regarding Umbrella, one of the major defense contractors in the area of weapons of mass destruction. 

The president was unsure of what was going on, but considering the uproar that was going on in the S.T.A.R.s, he assumed it meant major profit and power. Do-gooders only got upset when there was real money to be made. "This Yokama woman, is she reliable?"

"A very honest agent, sir, above reproach." It was no secret that the President didn't trust the S.T.A.R.s, and he truly believed that Umbrella was controlling them, but his FBI probe had turned up nothing yet. "The perfect person for the job. Umbrella cannot buy her loyalty for she is already wealthy."

"Ah, yes, she was a teenaged pop singer several years back wasn't she?" Luthor only remembered because one of his lovers had been a contemporary of the girl and had complained awfully about her. 

"Yes. After her career ended she enlisted in the Marines…"

"Where all beautiful women go to…"

The aide appeared flustered and Luthor waved him to go on. It was so hard to find help that appreciated sarcastic wit. "And after a four-year tour she joined the S.T.A.R.s, Metropolis office."

"Have her continue on with her investigation; I need an honest cop to find the information I require to remove Umbrella from map." Luthor, satisfied that his lackey understood, dismissed him and went back to the mundane duties of running the free world. 

Batgirl, as usual, was the first to enter the office-building complex that was supposed to be being checked by Green Arrow and Jill. Green Arrow was not answering any summons from either her or from Oracle and so the entrance was made on the assumption that things were going wrong. Batgirl used the opportunity to point out to Oracle that not issuing communications equipment to the S.T.A.R.s had been a mistake.

"Don't start on me right now, Cassandra," Oracle said. "I can't reach Batman either." She went on to explain that it was probably nothing that the Caped Crusader had suddenly gone incommunicado. "He's under the ground, probably in some sort of old bomb shelter. Besides, he's Batman, isn't he?" she asked.

Batgirl quickly agreed and she and Rebecca began to make their way through the myriad of mess that was now the first floor. They each took different sides to provide the best field of fire, Rebecca with her 9mm and Batgirl with a batarang at the ready. It didn't take long to come across the telltale signs of a firefight. 

"Oh, shit," Rebecca said. 

Batgirl looked up from several embedded bullets to see a zombie approaching them. It was fresh, very fresh for the skin had not even begun to rot. The creature was dressed like a security person and there was fresh blood all over it. Behind it, in a small office, they could see various body parts and blood pools. They had obviously interrupted the creature's meal.

There was no way they could have known that this was one of the security guards that Jill and Green Arrow had tied up and who had become a victim of the Gotham Protocol via Vandross. The strain of the T-Virus the mercenary was using had half the incubation period but because of that, there was an 80% failure rate. Perot had been a success while the Gotham University professor had not been.

In the case of the security guards only one survived the change and he had been fortunate enough to have a warm meal waiting for him. His sense of smell had detected the women when they entered and his slowly decaying mind put a picture of hot apple pie and whipped cream before its eyes. 

The women were dessert.

"Is it really dead?" Batgirl asked. It simply looked too human for her.

"Oh, yeah," Rebecca replied with two quick shots. One hit the zombie in the chest, forcing most of its useless heart out its back while the other went through its throat. It fell back with a wicked moan. "It's dead."

Batgirl shook her head. "That was not what I meant."

"At first, they can look quite human, but look at his pants. They're soiled because his bowels opened at death."

Batgirl stopped. "What if it is simply a man who is scared?"

Rebecca did not immediately answer and turned her head away. Because of that action, she did not see the zombie suddenly lurch out and grasp Batgirl's leg. The young hero was quick with the razor sharp batarang and cut the through the zombie's wrist, severing it from the arm. As she backed away with the corpse's hand still clasping her thigh, Rebecca put another two bullets into the zombie.

A pool of black blood formed under the creature as the last bits of air escaped from its useless lungs, a mournful cry carrying its soul to the afterlife. She then ran over to Batgirl who was still struggling to remove the hand. Rebecca pulled out a large folding knife and used it to gently pry the hand off of her new friend.

Tossing it away, she leaned in close to examine the wound. Blood had been drawn and Rebecca turned a ghastly white. "You've been infected possibly."

Batgirl nodded and hopped back to an unused desk. Rebecca pulled some antiseptic spray and gauze from her small medical kit. "How long before we know for certain?" Batgirl asked.

Rebecca cleaned the wound and saw that at least two of the scratches were fairly deep. "There are a lot of factors. Your own immune's system health, which we will assume is perfect; the strength of the T-Virus, the depth of the wounds." She applied a bandage to it and marveled at the fabric of the costume. It was made of the same material S.T.A.R.s combat vests were constructed of. "Best case is you weren't infected; worst case is an hour based upon my experience."

"That cannot be true. Green Arrow and Jill went through here not more than a half-hour ago I am sure; they would have seen this." She pointed to the dead bodies. "One of the bodies has handcuffs; perhaps you could see if they are the ones used by Ms. Valentine?"

She didn't have to go over to look; it was obvious that Jill had been through here. "I've never seen the virus work so fast…this is something new…maybe something old…"

"I do not understand…"

"It could be the original virus from which all of the other viruses came from. I simply don't know. If we had a lab and time…" Rebecca couldn't speak anymore. So many times in the past she had to give the same diagnosis, the same statement of doom and every time it was harder and harder to do. She was warmed when Batgirl put a hand on her shoulder.

"If I start to turn, then you will ensure I hurt no innocents?" she asked calmly.

Batgirl's strength added to Rebecca's resolve. The idea of shooting her new friend sickened Rebecca, but she knew what the consequences of not acting were. If she hesitated for even a moment, then not only could she end up dead, but so could any number of civilians. "I won't let you down." She then took a deep breath and checked her weapon. "How do you feel? Any burning, perhaps a feeling like being drunk?"

"I have never drank liquor," Batgirl confessed. "But, my leg does burn slightly. Come, we must press on."

Rebecca nodded and holstered her weapon and checked her medical pack. "You go first."

Ten minutes later they had made it up to the floor where the security computer room was located. They could smell the cordite in the air from Green Arrow's explosive arrow and they could also detect the sound of fighting. They rushed ahead, Rebecca remaining behind Batgirl where she could observe the hero's movements. If the virus started to take hold, then Batgirl would become sluggish. So far, there was nothing strange.

They entered a hallway that was filled with smoke and the limp body of Green Arrow. A few feet away, Jill Valentine was locked in hand-to-hand combat with a large African-American man with sunglasses. They did not need to tell each other what needed to be done; Rebecca went to Green Arrow's aid while Batgirl landed a flying kick to the back of Jill's adversary.

Vandross felt the blow to his kidneys and stumbled forward into Jill's right cross. He went back, accepting the strike with wounded pride and using the momentum to bring his left fist back at Batgirl. He was mildly surprised when she not only blocked the move, but she then put his arm in a hold that would normally stop anyone cold. "Very nice," he commented.

Batgirl applied more pressure and turned her head to try and get a look at Jill to see of she was okay when she saw the melted slag of a 9mm pistol on the floor. Jill started to let out a warning when Batgirl felt the heat on her foot. She had no choice but to let him go.

They twisted away from each other and he jumped to miss a foot sweep by Jill. Batgirl saw that his sunglasses had melted and he tossed them away as he came down. Batgirl nodded to Jill and they both attacked at the same time. Vandross dropped down, splitting his legs apart like a 70's disco dancer and landed a hard punch to both women. Jill went down, but Batgirl was unimpressed and slugged the mercenary hard enough to break his nose.

Blood splattered into Jill as Vandross went down hard. There was a crack as his head hit the floor, but he rolled with it, tripping Jill as he got back up. His former lover gave a cry as she fell back and he wiped his bloody nose. "You're good," he acknowledged to Batgirl. 

"Better than you," she responded as she tightened her fists. The leather made an unnatural sound as she did so.

"Perhaps, but I'm getting old," he said. She had only a moment's notice as the membranes covered his eyes. Twin beams of heat vision shot out and Batgirl dodged away. The beams followed her, burning through everything they touched. Small fires were starting in the floor and Jill had to scoot away to keep from getting burned.

"Sebastian! Stop this!" Jill yelled as she moved to where Green Arrow was. Rebecca had finished her cursory examination of the hero and had drawn her weapon. 

"Hold still!" he cried out as he continued to try and hit Batgirl. She danced away from his every strike and he was becoming consumed in rage in trying to get her. "I'll burn you so bad that…!"

The floor beneath his feet suddenly gave way as the semi-circular pattern Batgirl forced him to make with his heat vision collapsed. With a growl of fury he fell to the floor below. Batgirl wasted no time as she watched flames start to spread to the flotsam and debris strewn about the office building. "Get him out of here!" she called, indicating Green Arrow. He was still down for the count, the blow to his head much stronger than Jill had realized. 

Jill looked at Rebecca. "Honey, can you get into that computer room and see of anything is worth salvaging?" The young medic looked just as a fiery support beam dropped in the inside. She shook her head and Jill cursed like a sailor as she picked up Green Arrow. He mumbled something about her breasts and then slumped again. "We have to go!" she said.

Rebecca nodded and helped her with the Emerald Archer and gave a small gasp when Batgirl jumped down into the hole left by Vandross. "Batgirl! No!" she cried out behind tears caused more by sadness than the growing smoke. She understood that the young woman in black was giving her life, what was possibly left of it, so they could make their escape. 

Jill's words broke her out of her stupor. "I need your help, 'Becca!"

Together they started to make their way to the stairwell, moving away from the fire but not escaping it. Jill reflected on their situation. "This place is going to go up like a gasoline factory! There's paper and crap everywhere!"

Rebecca nodded and they pulled Green Arrow into the stairwell and Jill slammed the door, giving them a brief respite from the smoke. "We have to get to the first floor! There are some guards down their we left tied up!"

"They're dead," Rebecca told her and then she explained about their encounter with the zombie below. 

Jill was on the verge of tears. "That son of a bitch! I can't believe I was in love with him at one time. Cold-hearted bastard!" She tugged at Green Arrow and they started to make their way down the steps. She reflected on Vandross and the life they could have had. If she hadn't decided to join the S.T.A.R.s, would she have ended up here as well?

"Where did he get heat vision?" Rebecca asked, hoping conversation would alleviate her fears of being burned alive.

"He said that Umbrella gave it to him when they saved his life a few years back," she responded automatically. She wondered why Rebecca had not commented when she had said she had been in love with Vandross once. She asked her about it.

Rebecca smiled and then shrugged. "Hell, I've got the hots for Chris. There is always an older man in a woman's life."

"Yeah, too bad mine turned out to be the wrong one," Jill said.

Green Arrow's head popped up. "I'm sorry, Pretty-Bird, but she was naked and I was lost and it was cold…."

The tow women merely shook their heads as he once again passed out.


	12. Chapter 12

Batman/Resident Evil: The Gotham Protocol

Chapter 12

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil™ is a registered product of Capcom Inc./Batman™ is a registered product of DC Comics Inc. Neither of these properties is used here with permission. This original story idea is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

The rest of the lower area was nothing more than several empty rooms and a half-rotted corpse inside a closet. Batman had commented that it was like walking through a crypt; Chris had commented that crypts were generally holy places. There were only two more rooms to look in and they had made their way down a side passage to a large vault door.

"Think it's a safe?" Chris asked.

Batman shook his head. "Corporations like Umbrella don't deal with things like paper money; all of their wealth is tied up in digital accounts. A safe would have no real use, especially here." He touched the door and then removed his gauntlet and tried it again. "It's cold."

Chris looked for any kind of sign for what the door kept them from entering. There was an area of bright paint in a rectangular shape, showing where a placard had once rested. As he carefully looked around the passage, he asked Batman if he had been able to raise anyone. "No; in fact my radio is dead silent. You don't happen to be carrying a radio?"

The younger man didn't turn around. "No; once I saw the underground tunnels, I realized that our standard issue equipment wouldn't be of use. We've run into this several times in the past. Umbrella likes to buy up bunkers and stuff like that." Finally resolved to waiting on the Batman to finish his business, Chris returned.

Batman pulled a small torch out of his utility belt and ignited it. Without a word, he began to cut through the door, which turned out to look more impressive than what it actually was. Chris was surprised to see such thin metal used for the door but it told him many things about what was inside without having to actually look.

"Probably not very valuable," Chris offered.

Batman tuned off the torch and stepped back. Smoke and vapor slowly rose into the air as Batman offered his own theory. "I think it's a refrigeration unit."

Chris took a step back and pushed the safety off of his pistol. "Didn't your buddy Nightwing run into a zombie in a fridge?"

Batman cast a glance at the pistol. "Why would they lock up some zombies and not others? We've experienced enough of those pathetic souls outside this passageway…"

"There are some things we haven't seen yet," Chris said quietly. He took a deep breath. "Zombies are byproducts of biological research into developing true WMD's. Umbrella's aim is to create a weapon that can think, react and adapt, but is also could be controlled. Our investigations have shown that they have some things that make zombies look like girl scouts."

"I see," Batman said as he turned to look at the cooling hole he had made. Had he just allowed warm air into a chamber holding a horror from the pits of hell? Did it really matter? Every door had to be opened, every corner checked if not to find evidence, but to at least try and find some survivors. Batman had started to give up that small bit of hope, though, as he realized that he was facing a corporation that regarded life as a tool, something to be used in furtherance of the great profit margin.

Batman pulled out a small flashlight and shined it into the hole, half-expecting a dead eye to stare back at him. Instead, the light revealed a treasure trove of evidence. "Bingo," Batman said with a smile. Chris moved over and looked inside.

His face brightened. "It looks like you hit the mother load, Mr. Batman. It's the holding area for the viruses!" He could barely contain his joy. "We've never had a chance like this! Make the hole bigger and I'll go in to get it."

Batman shook his head. "That used up all of my fuel; we'll need to either find the way to open this door or get some better tools." He took a final look around and caught the hint of something up in the darkened corner of the ceiling. He shined his light up and saw it was a two-way speaker-microphone. He indicated it to Chris. "I'll bet the door has a voice-print lock. The Riddler has used something like that before. The authorized personnel probably have to give the answer to some complex enigma."

Chris threw a thumb at the door behind them. "I guess that means we go into that final room." He paused for a moment. "We haven't seen any trace of this Man-Bat thing, have we?"

Batman could hear the apprehension in Chris's voice and he could understand it. Chris had never encountered the creature that Kirk Langstrom turned into. Zombies were horrible, but there was the knowledge, as Batman was coming to accept, that the person on the inside was gone, traveled to their final reward; only their corpse continued on until it fell apart. With Man-Bat, you knew that the good, yet misguided, man on the inside was forever trapped in his own personal hell. 

Batman did not relish fighting Man-Bat, but if he did, it meant he was still alive. The Caped Crusader's fear was that the tragedy he had witnessed over the past hour or so would be punctuated by his finding the dead body of Kirk Langstrom. The man had a family in Gotham City.

"You go first," Batman said. Chris didn't argue and took the lead. They got to the door and Chris reached for the knob. He quickly looked at Batman, who nodded it was okay to proceed and Chris slowly opened the door. The first thing he noted was that there was suddenly sound.

"Fire alarm," Chris whispered. Then the smell hit him. "God! It's like a zoo!"

Batman started to reply when Chris fell back, his pistol clattering across the passageway. His hands were on his ears and he was screaming, screaming as if his head were ready to explode.

Vandross handed three quick punches to Batgirl's chest, but her return strike was just as savage. She smiled behind her mask when she heard a rib crack on her opponent. Vandross grunted and stepped away, moving just as some flaming debris drifted down from above. "You have set your employer's building afire, sir," Batgirl said. Inside her costume, she was drenched in sweat and it was very uncomfortable. She also assumed that she might be feeling the first effects of the change, for she was sure that she was now turning into a zombie.

"They are insured," Vandross smiled as he pulled off trench coat and tossed it away. Underneath he wore a sleeveless shirt that allowed Batgirl to view his large, powerful arms. She wanted to try and avoid them for as long as she could for though she was fast and deadly, there were times that brute force could overwhelm even the greatest of skill. "You aren't like the others, especially that whining Nightwing." He smiled like a predatory cat. "You've killed before."

"How do you know Nightwing has not?" she asked in reply. It was hard to keep her voice steady as a new burning sensation slowly worked its way from her leg to the rest of her body. She didn't have time to check her watch, but she hoped that she had given Rebecca and Jill enough time to get Green Arrow away and to safety.

A fire alarm suddenly sounded and she expected the sprinklers to turn on, but they didn't. Since Umbrella was planning on blowing everything up, they most likely turned off the water. "You know, when I was a younger man, I actually would have found this erotic," he joked with her as he stripped off his gun belt.

"I hope that since you are older, you will find this painful," she said. At the same time, they took off running at each other. She jumped first, leg extended to deliver a crushing kick to Vandross, most likely in the jaw. The mercenary dodged the attack, slipped past Batgirl and grabbed a handful of cape. He yanked back and she reacted by reaching up and unclasping it.

With a bit of flair, he twirled the now-loose cape and cowl and threw them into the corner. Batgirl stopped and pivoted. "Asian, eh? A bit cliché, don't you think?"

Her thigh muscle began to tremble. "Shut up and fight!"

He straightened up and she watched the membranes fall over his eyes, much like a shark's as it gets ready to attack. It was disgusting to watch. She expected heat vision and tried to will herself away, but something was blocking her will from becoming action. 

The base of her spine started to burn as Vandross's eyes returned to normal. "My X-ray vision shows you're infected with Type Alpha T-Virus; a pity. All of this running around has pushed it through your system. It was originally designed to react with adrenaline." 

Batgirl couldn't respond; the burning was now climbing up her spine like a spider up a wall. Each vertebra seemed to start to ache and she couldn't help but arch her back. She would have cried out, but she wanted to maintain the impression strength. Every second was another few feet away her friends got. 

Self-sacrifice did not come easily to her; like anyone else she was afraid of dying. She felt the cold chills on the back of her neck whenever she saw a zombie for it reminded her of her own mortality. She was deadly, it was true, but it was only so she could protect life. Though she had lived a hard life, she wasn't hard, but was instead a vulnerable young woman.

Her legs finally gave out and she dropped to her knees. "Kill me," she croaked out. She started to fall over and managed to stop herself by throwing an arm out. "Kill me!" she screamed.

"Normally, I would say no," Vandross said as he came over. A large section of the ceiling crashed down, starting a larger fire. He paid it no heed. "But you've given me a good workout, and I appreciate a woman who can make me sweat." He drew a long black knife from the small of his back. "Believe me when I say I'm sparing you a very painful death."

Just as he got within arms reach, she lashed out with a hard uppercut to his groin. The knife dropped as he doubled-over. She then did a quick foot sweep and brought him down to floor level. She was shocked to see him smiling. "That was a good move, but it doesn't matter, you crazy bird. You're infected; the virus is lethal in all known cases!"

She grabbed his shirt and head-butted him. "What about you? You lived!"

He punched her in the temple and sent her sprawling across the floor. "Different virus. Mine was a Kryptonian mixture made up with some DNA left over from the project that created Superboy. I'm something of a screwed-up individual you might say."

 He got up and saw that she was grabbing her stomach and moaning. He recognized it as the final stage of the change, something he had watched too many times for even his own taste. Killing people was his job, it was what mercenaries did. Oh, some people tried to paint it as something more romantic, but the simple truth was he was a hired soldier and soldiers, by definition, killed people to earn their coin. He considered sparing her the indignity of the death she was about to experience, but he remembered her punch to his groin. 

He walked over and picked up his gun belt, but left his coat. It was getting warm in this building. He glanced at his watch and realized he had no time to pursue Jill. He wanted to get her and try to explain why he did what he did, that it had been Umbrella that had saved his life after Deathstroke had tried to take it. She wouldn't listen and he knew it. They had chosen their respective paths years before.

Batgirl screamed and then vomited, a black foamy liquid that looked like used motor oil. With a final glance and a sideways hop away from a falling hunk of burning drywall, he made his way to an exit.

She knew she was dying.

Batgirl tried to pray but the idea of words seemed so silly to her. The more she tried to put together coherent thoughts, the more she realized that she was hungry. It was a stupid idea, of course, especially since she was throwing up everything in her stomach. 

The burning was giving way to severe cold and numbness and it was ironic that she was afraid of messing herself in her costume. She wanted some dignity in her death but then she remembered the fire. The flames would purify her and hopefully destroy her animated corpse before it could hurt anyone. 

She tried to get a hold of Oracle but after three tried she remembered that her cowl was somewhere else, but the direction it was laying in was lost to her. She couldn't even remember what the word direction meant and her train of thought drifted form here to there as she slipped into a dreamless sleep. Her mind's voice attempted to call out to a God she hardly knew, but the words soon blurred into emotions of despair and loneliness. _Where is the bright light at the end of the tunnel?_ It was the last question she was sure she would ever ask as the advancing cold made its way to her neck.

And then there was nothing.

Jill turned back to look at the burning office building. "A fat lot of good that did," she said as she watched another floor start to burn. It was official now; they had screwed up.

"I guess I shouldn't have used that explosive arrow," Green Arrow said. Jill turned to see Rebecca putting her medical kit back together. Under his little green hat, Green Arrow was sporting a bandage. "Sorry."

Jill blew out to relieve the frustration she felt. They had gotten no records or any type of useful evidence because the Democratic Party's personal archer decided to take the fight to the "Man". Mentally, she counted to ten, realizing that it was unfair to put the blame on Green Arrow. His macho-antics may have taken out the computer room, but it was Vandross and his heat vision that had set the building on fire.

Rebecca was at her side. "Do you think she got out?" 

Jill didn't know, but she saw no purpose in upsetting her. "You know that reputation of these Bat-types; they fight super-villains, space aliens…stuff like that. She'll be fine."

"I want to go back in and help her," Rebecca pleaded. Jill forbade it and when Rebecca tried to argue, Jill had to pull rank. Though they were no longer members of the S.T.A.R.s, Jill was the more experienced. Green Arrow used their debate to raise Oracle.

"I'm not getting anything from either Batman or Batgirl," Oracle told him. "And someone from Umbrella Corporate had contacted GCFD and told them that the on-site fire department will handle the blaze." Green Arrow said there was no fire department.

"I'll try to get a message through to my dad, but I wouldn't expect anything. Umbrella has deep pockets and their influence seems to extend far here in Gotham City." Green Arrow asked what the chances were of getting some back up. "Not good. Roy is stuck in the cave and Nightwing is out of action for awhile; he wanted to check on the Huntress." She went on to explain how the Huntress had gotten wounded and that Black canary had successfully retrieved her. "I'm trying to raise some of the League reserves but they aren't answering."

Green Arrow signed off and moved over to where Rebecca and Jill were comparing notes on what they had learned. "And," Rebecca was explaining, "I have no idea if we've deactivated the entire bomb chain or just a few of them."

"And there are zombies locked up in those barracks?" Jill asked.

"This place is nothing but a biological junkyard for Umbrella; they've got everything here. Maybe Batman has some answers," Rebecca replied, her eyes inevitably drifting back to the burning building. There was still no sign of Batgirl.

"Look, kid," Green Arrow said. "If Batgirl did get out, she's gonna head for wherever Bats is at because she'll think that's where we would go." He pushed his hat back and planted his bow in the dirt so he could lean on it. "I say we go find him and let him know about the bombs. Knowing him like I do, he'll probably have us hightail it out of here and then he'll sneak back in later to fix everything."

That seemed to reassure her slightly. "Okay…let's go." She started to lead the way and Jill nodded a silent thank you to Green Arrow. He accepted it with his typical arrogant smile. 


	13. Chapter 13

Batman/Resident Evil: The Gotham Protocol

Chapter 13

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil™ is a registered product of Capcom Inc./Batman™ is a registered product of DC Comics Inc. Neither of these properties is used here with permission. This original story idea is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

Man-Bat could sense the door opening and instinctually understood that the others would use their sonic cries to see if there was food about. Man-Bat wasn't sure what he was supposed to do as he was hungry but he also possessed some sort of moral compass that told him not to feed on humans. The three others, his "children", had no such limitations.

The cages were rattling and it was only a matter of time before the flimsy steel bars gave way under the enhanced strength of the others. Man-Bat stood up and shook off the dust of despair; being kept in a cage, unable to fly free had weighed heavily on his primitive brain. He hated those who kept him confined, but he desired freedom even more.

Still, there were images flashing through his brain, a wife here, and a friend there. Man-Bat understood his condition, he knew that he was not a true bat, that he was some sort of mutant, but he constantly fought against that knowledge, refusing to accept it as a definite truth. He did not want to become human again for though he could not remember every specific detail, he knew that humans led oppressive, stressful lives. Instead of hunting, they bartered; instead of conserving their energies for when needed, they pushed themselves beyond their limits until the collapsed. 

He only wanted to be free again.

The fire alarm siren was annoying, lacking the evolutionary advancement of his own cry, but he knew that humans lacked the ability to hear the beauty of high-pitched sonics. The alarm indicated trouble, danger, though the exact nature of the problem was not immediately apparent until Man-Bat sniffed the air. Deep in his mutated DNA, as in all creatures, was the fear of fire. Fire was the great cleanser, bringing down animals of all types. Man-Bat knew that if he did not escape, he would die.

His arms bulged with power as he reached out to grasp the bars of his cage. He cast his eyes up to the observation platform, to the office where the human leader of this place, the alpha human, had stood so many times looking down at him. It was that human that had directed the other humans to draw Man-Bat's blood; not that Man-Bat had cared. He had been rewarded each time with more fruit than he could possibly ever eat.

Something inside Man-Bat told him that the humans were not trying to be nice to him and his suspicions were confirmed when the first "child" was put in one of the cages near him. Now Man-Bat had competition for food, he supposed, but when he tried to communicate with the creature, it could not understand him. It was too dumb he supposed.

Then there was another "child" and finally they brought in the female. Her scent even affected Man-Bat and the humans had laughed, elbowing each other and pointing at him like the chimpanzees they were. It was then that Man-Bat realized that he was nothing more than an oddity and the human side of him, buried deep in his altered brain, had felt rage and embarrassment.

Now he just wanted to be free of this place, return to his roost in Gotham City or make a new one somewhere else. He considered taking the female, but as time had passed, he had noted a change in her scent and it was no longer as intoxicating. It reminded him of death.

Batman slammed the door shut and then moved over to Chris. There was blood coming out of his ears and he was out cold. The Caped Crusader checked for a pulse and was satisfied when he detected a good, strong one. He now had to consider what to do next.

Luckily, the answer came with the patter of feet running down the passageway. He looked up to see Jill, Rebecca and Green Arrow coming towards him. Rebecca called Chris's name and was down on her knees, examining him as Batman stood up. 

Green Arrow and Jill informed him of the current situation. "Oracle says that if the Calvary does come, it's going to be late," Green Arrow said. He looked around the passageway. "You know we said this place was wired."

Batman nodded. "Then leave; there is something in that room; something that took Chris out without a shot being fired." He looked down at the younger man who was being attended to quite well by Rebecca. It was obvious her ministrations were more than just professional. "Arrow, you and Rebecca take Chris and get out of here." He then noticed someone was missing. "Where is Batgirl?"

Rebecca answered, explaining how the zombie had gotten through Batgirl's costume and infected her and how she had decided to buy them time with Vandross in order to escape. If Batman had any emotional feelings about what he was told, he didn't show it. 

Jill watched him and then remembered all of the empty costumes back in the Batcave. How many friends had Batman lost in his battle to bring justice to Gotham City? Was it as many as Jill had lost in her own battle? Even Green Arrow seemed subdued when speaking about Batgirl. "Then let's not make her sacrifice in vain," Batman said slowly.

He told Rebecca that she would have to get Chris out on her own as the man was slowly coming around. She agreed but Batman could see that the young woman did not want to go. "Someone has to help Chris," he told her. Reluctantly, she nodded and started to help him up.

"Arrow, Jill, get ready," Batman said as he approached the door again. He paused for a moment and then reached into his utility belt. He went back to them and handed each a pair of earplugs. "I think I know what hit Chris…sonic waves."

"From Man-Bat?" Green Arrow asked as he put the plugs in. Batman also put his own in, sliding them easily under is cowl. "I didn't think he could do things like that."

"Man-Bat's powers have never been fully documented or tested," Batman explained. "If Umbrella has had him for the past few months and after all that I've seen, I'm afraid of what they may have done to him." He tried to focus on Kirk Langstrom and the pain he must have endured, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Batgirl.

When the Joker had killed Jason Todd, the second Robin, Batman had thought he had sworn off partners, especially young ones. It was too much responsibility for him. Over time, however, he learned that age was not a measure of maturity and he had once again opened his heart to let in a select few. Batgirl had been one of them and he prayed he had not made a mistake.

There was a foul taste in his mouth. It wasn't the dry, salty flavor of fear, though more than once in his life, especially when he was younger, he had experienced that particular cuisine. No, now he felt utter disgust, and a slow rage was building inside of him. All of the horror he had witnessed this night, compounded with the realization that it was happening in so many places, was, quite frankly, pissing him off.

And there were not very many things in the universe that were more dangerous than a pissed Batman. "The plan is to go in an secure the area. If Man-Bat is in there, we need to subdue him. There's no time to rig a tranquilizer, so the best bet is to try and wing him and rope him. Jill, your job is to take down any zombies or security. If there are unaffected humans, you can't use lethal force," he instructed.

She nodded. "Unlike Chris, I follow orders very well, Mr. Batman."

"He did well; he even taught me a thing or two," Batman replied with a smile.

Jill visibly brightened at the compliment regarding her friend. She then went to escort Rebecca and Chris out of the underground labs.

Outside they could see that the office building was in full flame. The flames seemed to be following an invisible line to their position and Jill reasoned that there must be some connecting tunnels or passages to the office building that were on fire now as well. Rebecca pointed out towards the barracks and Jill could see several of them were on fire as well.

A single figure, man-sized, was darting through the flames. "Sebastian," Jill whispered. Obviously he had survived the battle with Batgirl. Part of her was secretly relieved; another part was worried about Batgirl. She again turned to the burning building and realized there was nothing she could do.

Rebecca was now crying. "We shouldn't have left her," she sobbed.

Chris grimaced. "She knew the risks…"

"She wasn't a S.T.A.R.s, Chris!" Rebecca cried. "She was just a kid…"

"A kid trained to kill," Jill pointed out. "I watched her go after Vandross, 'Becca; that wasn't just some teeny-bopper with a leather fetish." There was an explosion as one of the barracks offered itself up to the gods of destruction. Jill commented off-hand. "That will probably bring in the Gotham fire department."

"Be careful," Rebecca told her. 

"You just get muscles here to the van and wait. If we aren't back in a couple of hours, I guess take it and run." She accepted a 9mm clip from Rebecca as a going away present. "I'd sure like to have a shotgun right about now."

She gave Rebecca a final hug and then put a hand on Chris's shoulder. His skin was pale but there was fire in his eyes. "Don't get yourself killed, okay?" he asked her.

"Why, afraid we won't get to go on that romantic date?" she joked. He wondered if she realized the truth. He only smiled and patted her hand, hoping desperately that this wouldn't be the last time he saw her.

"Worried about the kid?" Green Arrow asked Batman when they were alone. He already knew the answer but he was seeing if his friend wanted to blow off some steam. 

"She's a professional, better trained than any of my other sidekicks; she has the best chance of surviving anything." Green Arrow wondered if Batman really believed what he was saying.

"You the father?" 

Batman turned slowly back, wondering exactly how to respond. "I'm fully aware of how many children I do or don't have, Oliver."

Green Arrow shrugged. "Just doing my part for the future of mankind."

Jill's return ended the discussion and the three went about checking their weapons. Jill once again reassured Batman that she had no intention of shooting any civilians unless she had to. "I don't care what the government says, I'm S.T.A.R.s," she said.

Batman grunted a reply and they discussed their strategy. Jill was surprised to find out that Batman had a good grasp of S.W.A.T. tactics for room entry. She was even more shocked to find out how easily he disregarded them. "I'll go left, Jill will go right and Ollie will hang back at the door."

"Wouldn't it be better if we all went in together…"

Batman shook his head. "If this were a hostage situation, maybe, but it isn't. We're dealing with something that can fly and perhaps several zombies who's only intent is to eat us. By splitting up, we give them more targets to consider. I want Arrow behind us because he's the marksman."

Green Arrow smiled. "The problem is I'm kind of low on arrows; when I got knocked in the head, some of them fell out."

"I thought they locked into your quiver," Batman said sarcastically.

"I broke it," the other hero said. He changed the subject quickly. "No trick arrows except for my boxing glove arrow."

"That's useful," Jill snorted.

A fire alarm went off in the passageway and Batman saw smoke pouring out the hole in the virus vault. "Damn it," he cursed as he went over to look. He returned, shaking his head. "The ceiling collapsed, this whole place is getting ready to burn down."

"Maybe we should leave," Green Arrow suggested.

"No; for all we know Batgirl is in there or Kirk Langstrom. He would be able to give us the evidence we need to take Umbrella down," Batman reminded them. 

There were no more objections and they made their way to the door. Slowly, Batman turned the handle.

Man-Bat managed to squeeze through the bars he had separated, but had to pause. The exertion in the heavy air had taken its toll on him, not to mention having to listen to the others chatter away in their own language. Their sonic cries were also bouncing off of the walls, but they were merely the droning of idiots to him. Their speech had not context, it made no sense. The only thing Man-Bat could get was that they were hungry.

Weeks before, they had been wanting to mate, but their zealous behavior was more human than animal. Man-Bat wondered if they were like him, hybrids, but it was hard to tell. By design, Man-Bat had very poor eyesight. The sonic picture he received told him nothing, but the smell! Oh, how he was starting to hate the smell!

Flames could be seen dancing at the very top of the room, in the observation platform. The fire alarm was still going off, but it was still only a minor inconvenience. Man-Bat let loose a shriek to get his bearings and noticed that the door was opening again. The picture he got was familiar for he recognized the Batman.

The Batman was a human, an enemy, but not one that wanted to harm him and Man-Bat quickly decided flight rather than fight. Too many times in the past Batman had managed to subdue him and made him go back into the dark place, back into the mind of Kirk Langstrom. Man-Bat just wanted his freedom.

The others screeched at the intruders; Man-Bat could not know that with the deactivation of the security systems, the sonic buffers were also down. The cries of his "children" were powerful enough to harm normal humans. These three, Batman plus two more, did not seem affected. Man-Bat flapped his wings, only to strike them on one of the cages.

The creature inside turned on Man-Bat and was close enough for him to take him in full. Man-Bat took a step back, seeing the damage done to the thing. It was wounded, severely, with flesh dripping off in some places like water. There were exposed bones and this one seemed to have chewed off one of its hands.

It was a bat-like creature for the most part, covered with a dull gray fur, but the wings were stunted, unusable for flight. The creature had a face that was slightly human, with a sneer on its furry lips. It shrieked at him in a display of dominance. Man-Bat had been holding back, not wishing to get into a pissing match over territory, but this was a direct challenge. He took in a deep breath and let loose a cry that made the other creature cower. 

Satisfied, Man-Bat looked for a way to get higher so he could fly, but then his mind tried to figure out how he was supposed to get out. As he sent sonic waves around the room to try and find an exit big enough for him, the other creature stepped out of its cage.

The creatures had been allowed to get out when their locks were deactivated, the final part of the Gotham protocol. Because Man-Bat had terrorized Gotham City before, Umbrella reasoned that nobody would even think twice if any of the experiments survived the destruction of the site. For the past several minutes, the creatures had been testing their cages, wanting to get out to hunt down fresh meat. Unlike Man-Bat, these creatures were carnivores.

Only Man-Bat's cage had remained locked, secured with the tried and true method of a key lock, a suggestion made by the Riddler. Man-Bat, while valuable, was simply too much of a risk to allow to be free. If he ever reverted to Kirk Langstrom, he could possibly implicate Umbrella Corporation. Shooting him outright might upset the other creatures some of the scientists had thought, so it was decided that he should burn to death when the lab was destroyed.

Man-Bat was given a reprieve from his death sentence when Batgirl defused the bomb in the chain meant to destroy the site. Man-Bat, however, didn't care, as escape was foremost on his mind.

Batman called out to him, using the name Kirk, but Man-Bat ignored him until he saw the other creature jump Batman. The sound picture Man-Bat received told him that there was another human in the other corner of the room being tracked by the female and that the last male had centered on a human with a bow and arrow.

Man-Bat was familiar with the missile weapon; many big-game hunters over the years had used variations of the bow to try and catch him. Many times it was Batman that saved him. In his animal heart, Man-Bat felt a sort of kinship to Batman, but at the same time, he realized that Batman meant to take away his freedom. Man-Bat wanted only to get out into the night.

Batman went down as the other monster jumped him.

Batman had made the mistake if misidentification.

He put his forearm up against the neck of the creature as its mouth snapped open and shut in an effort to bite his skull. Its breath was a cross between rancid meat and a public toilet and it raised a gore-encrusted stump of an arm to pummel him. 

Reaching down, Batman managed to pull his mace from his utility belt and he sprayed a healthy dose into the monster's face. It had no effect and Batman realized that this creature was the animated corpse of a mad experiment gone bad. 

Tossing away the mace, Batman punched it hard enough to crack bone. Green gel filled the crack in its face and started to run down, threatening to spill onto his own face. Pure desperation gave Batman strength that Superman would have whistled at. He got his legs under the thrashing creature and pushed it up off of him. 

It hit a cage hard and shook it's head. A large section of bone sailed across the room as it did so. A batarang severed the rest of the skull from the body, but the creature didn't go down. Batman looked up to the platform above, wondering where the missile had come from.

Silhouetted against the dancing flames was a pointy-eared devil, a dark god of death staring down at him. With a cry like a dying animal, the figure jumped down to the floor and came down next to the headless monster.

Batgirl struck quickly with two punches that collapsed the creature's chest and then she kicked out to snap a thigh. The body went down, but she didn't hesitate to pounce upon it, grabbing the arm with a hand and twisting it until it popped completely out of the socket. Tossing the arm away, Batgirl jumped away as flaming debris fell onto the body.

Batman started to feel relieved until he saw that the cowl she was wearing had been torn to reveal part of her face. Eyes filled with blood stared back at him and suddenly he felt very, very alone in the world. 


	14. Chapter 14

Batman/Resident Evil: The Gotham Protocol

Chapter 14

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil™ is a registered product of Capcom Inc./Batman™ is a registered product of DC Comics Inc. Neither of these properties is used here with permission. This original story idea is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

Jill now knew what hell was really like.

The final destination for sinners was paved with the tears of the damned and an honor guard of zombies stood on each side of the path, pawing at you as you made your way towards the flames. At the end of the walk there was a large steel door and beyond it stood a half-woman/half-animal ready to tear you to shreds.

Jill knew the creature was female by the swollen, rotting breasts that swung as it approached her. There was also several locks of blonde hair on its misshapen skull and Jill couldn't help but wonder how she must have looked before Umbrella had transformed her. Watching as the horror slowly came towards her, Jill realized what had actually been going on here.

She brought her weapon up and shouted a warning, hoping beyond hope that the creature retained enough intelligence to understand. The red eyes told her enough as they focused on her; they were full of hunger. Jill turned her head slightly, one eye on the creature, and looked to Batman. The Caped Crusader was down, wrestling with another creature. Jill cursed like a sailor under her breath and pulled the trigger.

The gun jammed.

More curse words followed and Jill dropped the clip and racked the slide, stepping back in order to put some distance between her and the advancing bat-woman. The monster twisted its head to the side and seemed to be studying Jill, looking her over, much like a drunk in a cheap bar. The creature then looked down at itself and in the poor lighting, Jill could just make out a look of horror on the face of her adversary. Somewhere in its rotted brain, it understood how ugly it had become.

The female creature roared, a blast if stink-breath that would peel the paint off of a battleship and came running at Jill. This time her pistol obeyed the pull of the trigger and three rounds reduced flesh to pulp. The creature kept coming, however, and Jill had to turn and break into a run. She rounded several workbenches and headed towards the door they had come in.

Green Arrow was there, an arrow notched at the ready when he saw Jill running at him, the female creature roaring and swiping behind her. Arrow turned and closed one eye, letting the arrow fly. It zipped past Jill's ear and found a deep fleshy part of the monster to reside in. The monster didn't even pause.

Jill stopped at the side of Green Arrow and pointed her weapon at a shape coming towards them from the other direction. "Freeze!" she cried out, not knowing if it was man or beast. Green Arrow's bow twanged again and then he swore.

"Tough bitch, ain't she?" he said, pulling out his boxing glove arrow. 

"Oh, I feel safe," Jill said as they stood back to back. She could now see a second bat-creature coming at them, this one with an exploded eye and a missing canine. Jill fired twice but the bullets simply passed through the beast. It was skinnier than the female and Jill wondered if that mean it was hungrier. "Where is Batman?" she asked.

"Baking cookies on the other side of the room for all I know," the hero responded as he fired at the approaching female. The boxing glove arrow bounced harmlessly off of its face. "Let's move!"

Jill responded by firing two more times into the face of the other monster and enough brain matter was expelled out the back of its skull that the body could no longer function. Twitching, the monster slammed onto the floor even as Green Arrow and Jill backed away from the female.

It was obvious that of the two creatures, the female was the stronger. Bullets and arrows hurt it, but were not enough so far to kill it. Its eyes were focused on Jill, going from her chest to her exposed legs and each time it got a good look, it growled. Now it marched slowly towards them and Jill used the opportunity to slap a fresh clip into her weapon.

Green Arrow looked up at the observation platform and saw the flames. "We've got to go," he told her.

"You tell her," Jill said, pointing at the monster with her pistol. 

"Pretty," the creature suddenly said with a voice that sounded like a moaning child.

"I think it likes you," Green Arrow commented. He turned his head and saw another creature off to the side, watching them. He immediately recognized it as Man-Bat in the dim light. Batman was only a few feet away, his back to them. He appeared to be talking to someone. 

"Batgirl?" Batman asked, suddenly aware that he was possibly facing nothing more than the animated husk that was once a proud and talented young woman. His stomach churned at the thought that he would be the one with the responsibility of stopping her before she killed an innocent.

This entire affair angered him. He had come face to face with that which he never wanted to meet, the living dead. Now, he understood that there was no hope for these creatures, be they zombie or mutant. They were not human; they had no real life. Batman assumed an offensive stance; he had no way of knowing if a zombie could retain martial arts skills.

The red eyes of Batgirl blinked. "I know I look bad," she said with a weak smile, "but I don't think you should beat me up."

Batman relaxed. "We have to help Green Arrow and Jill."

"Don't take any prisoners," Batgirl told him. Then she saw Man-Bat. Batman saw him as well, but Jill's gun made him choose another path.

Jill watched as the beast tried to force some more words out, but it seemed to have strained what was left of its vocal cords. Even as she fired again, she felt a wave of pity wash over her. The creature had once been human and it was commenting on Jill's looks, lamenting possibly for the beauty it once possessed. In the entire time it had been held here, it probably never saw a woman dressed like Jill. The S.T.A.R.s agent was not modest at all, preferring form-fitting attire for practicality than for fashion. 

She prepared to fire again when a shadow washed over her and the arrow-deprived Green Arrow. It was the Batman, moving between them and the creature, which became enraged immediately when it could no longer see Jill. It swiped at Batman, who blocked it and then kicked out, striking it hard in the abdomen.

The creature produced a set of five-inch claws, but a batarang from Batgirl cut them down to the nubs. Jill watched the weapon fly back to the owner, while Batman pressed his attack. Like a man possessed, the Caped Crusader blocked every thrust, swing and strike, countering with a kick here and a punch there. Jill had never thought anyone who was not a metahuman would ever try to go toe to toe with such a monstrosity, but the Batman seemed perfectly suited.

She watched his moves and realized that he was using techniques from at least a dozen different fighting styles, from simple Judo to street fighting; all the while his face remained impassive. He was in his element now, using his fists and the poor creature to combat the demons that had to rage inside his skull. The Batman who had been apprehensive about this entire affair was now replaced by a Dark Knight seeking to get them out of here.

Jill and Green Arrow continued to back away from the fight, realizing that Batman was not just trying to buy them some time; he wanted them to figure out a way to secure man-Bat as well. 

"Good God," Jill whispered when she looked at Man-Bat, his eyes a fierce red in the light of the flames above. There was actual intelligence behind those eyes; an intellect with compassion. She had encountered the worst science had to offer, human corpses animated to be weapons and animals transformed into the stuff of nightmares, so she was used to looking into faces that weren't human. What unnerved her here was the fact that Man-Bat seemed to be so very human. 

Man-Bat regarded her as well and seemed to smile before spreading his wings wide and launching himself towards the ceiling. The flames were dancing higher now, spreading along the materials used to insulate the overhead. Now that there were more flames, she could get a real good look at the place. Green Arrow commented. "All of this stuff was put in after the sale, more than a decade ago."

"It makes sense; most of our intelligence shows that Umbrella started to get into the more obscure research around that time. They play their executives off of each other; whoever can come up with the best biological weapon gets promoted. Stuff like that," she commented, never taking her eyes off of the circling Man-Bat. 

There was a pitiful scream as the monster engaged with Batman finally went down. He didn't even look back, but Jill could tell he was affected. His voice and mannerism told great tales if one knew how to look. "This is a wash," Batman announced. He looked up to see Man-Bat trying to figure a way out. The flames were herding him into a far corner. Soon there would be no place for him to fly to. 

"I don't have anything non-lethal to take him down with," Green Arrow announced. "In fact, I don't have much of anything. I wasn't expecting to take on Satan's zoo, okay?"

"You thought there would only be businessmen in suits?" Batgirl asked as she joined them.

Green Arrow saw the red eyes. "You look like crap, but at least you know what you're talking about. Line me up some Republicans and I'm a happy archer."

"This place has nothing to do with politics," Jill announced.

"Sure it does," Batman said as he stepped away. "The politics of hell." He watched Man-Bat try to fly into the offices above, realizing that there was probably a way out that way. The heat was too much for him and he flew away, screeching.

"Man-Bat cannot be allowed to die," Batman told them. "Too many people have died and frankly, I'm sick and tired of all of the death. I'm tired of zombies and conspiracies. We will save him."

It wasn't a prediction; it was a simple statement of fact. Batman produced some thin nylon cord from his utility belt and Jill found herself envious. If the S.T.A.R.s had been equipped with such wonderful things, oh the possibilities! "Arrow, get Batgirl out of here."

"I'm fine, Batman," she proclaimed. 

Batman wasn't fazed. "If what Rebecca told us is correct then this mercenary fellow is probably rewiring the explosives. I need you to get out there and tell Jim Gordon to get his men back. They are bound to be coming."

Batgirl realized that warning the Commissioner was a convenient excuse to get rid of her. Green Arrow was savvy enough not to say anything, as he understood that until Batgirl was completely checked out, she couldn't be trusted. Rebecca had sworn she had been infected with the T-Virus.

"He won't listen to Green Arrow," Batman told her. "Besides, without arrows, he's pretty much useless."

The women did not see Green Arrow extend his middle finger at Batman or hear his mutterings about leather-clad fascists. "Arrow," Batman told him. "If I don't get out…"

"I'll contact Big Blue," Green Arrow replied, referring to Superman. "The League will be in here, no problem."

Batman nodded and watched as the Emerald Archer led off Batgirl. Jill waited until they were out of earshot before speaking to Batman, who was busy checking the knot on his cord as he attached it to a batarang. "So, is this how you get the girls alone? It's alright with me; I like older men," she joked.

"Funny, that's the way I like my women as well…older," he commented. He then pointed up at Man-Bat. "He's tiring; I should be able to snag him and pull him down but I'll need you to calm him down."

"Me?"

"Despite his appearance, he's still human with a heart. For some reason, your appearance seems to soothe the savage beast." Batman gave her the once over. "The skirt is a little short."

"I guess I have that angelic quality," She mused as she secured her weapon in its holster. The air was getting a little hot and she figured if she was uncomfortable in her mini-skirt, Batman must have felt like a ham in the over.

"Don't laugh; I've noticed that your features are almost perfectly symmetrical. Humans naturally have a desire for symmetry and we find individuals with those qualities particularly appealing." He took a step away from her and began to whirl the batarang.

"Oh, so that's why men like artificial breasts so much," she muttered as he threw.

His aim, as always, was true and the batarang allowed the cord to wrap around Man-Bat's legs. He screeched, more out of surprise than anger, and took a cursory swipe at the cord, but did not seem to resist very much. Batman pulled on the cord, his iron-like sinews standing out as he did so and Man-Bat decided, for once, not to fight.

Man-Bat understood that Batman did not want to kill him and he landed with a snort. He looked up at the flames and then tried to reason a way out of the situation. The concept of just opening a door was beyond him; it was far more complex than souring into the night sky.

The female started talking to him and he looked at her with fascination. He knew that humans would consider her very beautiful; a fine mate to fight over, yet Batman did not seem to be defending her. Perhaps Batman did not want a mate; Man-Bat had witnessed his battle with the foul smelling female bat-thing.

"We don't want to hurt you," Jill said as Batman slowly coiled in his rope. The lower level was now on fire and time was growing short. As she spoke to Man-Bat, she couldn't help but think about what a waste this had all been. Even if they managed to save Man-Bat, Batman had not said anything about a cure.

Chris had been hurt and she had learned that her former boyfriend was knee-deep in the stink of Umbrella. A man she had once shared her bed with was now her enemy! Then Batgirl might have been infected with the virus that turned people into zombies and all they had to show for it was a slightly singed Man-Bat. She let a curse word most foul slip past her lips.

Man-Bat cocked his head to the side and Batman shook his own. "I'm glad to see you're well-educated," he commented. He tugged on the line and Man-Bat became relatively docile, focusing on Jill instead. In his mind, he came to understand that at the very minimum, the humans would lead him out of the fire.

Together, Batman and Jill coaxed Man-Bat to walk out of the lab and into the adjoining passageway. He took one final glance over to the virus vault; it was possible that if he got Man-Bat out in time, he could return. His desire to find evidence of Umbrella's crimes was starting to override his better judgment and Jill's coughing served to bring him back down to Earth. 

The battle was over and there were too many casualties, but at least he had gotten to see the enemy up close.

Chris was sleeping in the back seat of the van, a result of a shot that Rebecca had given him. He would live, but they really needed to get some good medical attention to prevent any permanent damage. In the distance, just across the fence line, the explosions were starting. They weren't rapid, not like anything she had ever seen in a movie, but it was something more akin to someone shooting fireworks off on the 4th of July.

In the light of the raging fire, which now had theme music via the fire trucks of the GCFD, she could see Green Arrow and Batgirl slowly walking towards them. Her heart jumped into her throat and she exited the van and ran to them. She started to slow when she saw the look on Green Arrow's face. As she approached, she saw the condition of Batgirl's eyes.

"Oh, my God," she exclaimed even as she pulled out her penlight. She shoved past Green Arrow and put the light onto Batgirl's swollen orbs. "Does the light hurt?'

"When it is jammed into my eye, yes," she replied with a weak smile. 

Rebecca pulled the light away and began looking her over, paying special attention to the wound on her leg. "You've been infected," she announced.

"Boy, am I glad they made you the field medic," Green Arrow relied as he went to the van to use the radio. 

"It hurt very much, but it seems to have passed," Batgirl told her. "I do not know why."

"Chaos theory," Rebecca whispered. She bit her bottom lip and then scratched her temple. "I always believed it was possible that there could be someone out there whose unique immune system could counteract the effects of the T-Virus. I mean, factoring in all of the possibilities…"

"So, this is being immune?" 

Rebecca shrugged. "You need a full blood work-up, but it's possible. You might even hold the answer for a cure!" She helped her over to the side door of the van and eased her down onto the floor. She grinned. "Did ya whip his ass?"

"Does it look like it?"

"Man, you have everyone coming in there, Ollie," Arsenal said over the radio. "They think that there is some sort of terrorist incident going down and they've put the blame on eco-terrorists. You guys need to haul ass because Gordon is like third in line from getting there."

"Great," Green Arrow said. He looked over at Batgirl. "Son, we need medical transport for at least two, maybe more. Someplace secret."

"Green Arrow, this is Oracle," a female-voice interrupted. "Nightwing has arranged care at Leslie Thompkins' clinic, but you have to take the back way. Metropolis S.T.A.R.s are on their way as well and according to Nightwing, they're a top-notch team."

"Uh, well, we're still waiting on the Big Bad Bat right now," the archer said, looking out as the sewage treatment plant exploded. He sighed inwardly as he remembered the day he, as young Oliver Queen, broke the ground on this facility. "Better to see it burn than corrupted," he said, trying to console himself. 

A helicopter roared overhead and Green Arrow saw it was a newsbird, but he knew that wouldn't last long. Rebecca came up to him. "They better hurry; I know about Metropolis S.T.A.R.s."

"Federal stormtroopers?"

"The best, non-corruptible, but totally loyal. We had hoped to recruit them, but their leader wouldn't talk to us," Rebecca said. 

"Nightwing already tangled with them," Oracle said over the loudspeaker. Green Arrow adjusted the volume. "They are not fond of super-heroes now," she told them.

Green Arrow laughed. "Good, because I don't like cops…much…except cute ones."

He signed off with Oracle and had Arsenal download directions to the clinic from the Batcomputer to the on-board navigator. He winked at Rebecca. "My girlfriend is from Gotham, not me."

"You have a girlfriend?" Rebecca asked, not believing it. After the way he had leered at both her and Jill, she found it impossible to conceive a woman stupid enough to put up with a man like him.

"Only when she's around," he said, wiggling his eyebrows. He got out of the van and walked around it to the driver's seat. "Get your butts in, kiddies, 'cause we are out of here in ten minutes."


	15. Chapter 15

Batman/Resident Evil: The Gotham Protocol

Chapter 15

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil™ is a registered product of Capcom Inc./Batman™ is a registered product of DC Comics Inc. Neither of these properties is used here with permission. This original story idea is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

The Huntress opened her eyes to see Nightwing looking down at her, a wide grin on his face. She started to say something but stopped when a sharp pain ran from her back to her neck. She remembered the attack by Vandross and blew out. From the smell, she knew she was in a doctor's office. From the feel of the sheets, she realized she was naked.

"You took my clothes off?" she asked weakly.

He continued to grin. "It was either me or Arsenal." By the look that crossed her face he knew that he was definitely the better choice to her. 

"What about the doctor?" she joked.

"No fun in that," he told her. He stepped away and offered a hand in sitting up. "How do you feel?"

"I'm sore, but alive," she said before sniffing at her chest. "I don't smell like vomit anymore."

"Yeah, well, it was Black Canary that scooped you up and brought you here. Doc Thompkins said I could take you home after a few more hours' observation. You needed stitches." He waited as she reached around and felt the bandage and she shook her head. He laughed. "We all have out battle scars."

"If I ever find that S.O.B., I'll…"

Nightwing held up his hands in defense. "Whoa, there, Helena; you aren't going to be doing anything for awhile. A back injury is nothing to fool around with in our line of work."

"It's a scratch," she retorted.

"Then it's a deep one," he said as he stepped over to the door to the room. He opened it and peeked outside and then slowly closed it. "We need to stay in here."

Huntress indicated the door with her chin. "What's up out there?"

"Batgirl was infected," he said silently as he came back over to her. "Doc Thompkins is examining her right now."

"And you looked?"

"They are behind a screen, for your information," he told her. He then explained that while Batgirl had indeed been exposed to the T-Virus, she had not been turned into a zombie. "Rebecca thinks that Batgirl may be the one individual on the planet whose body chemistry was able to fight off the virus."

"How is everyone else?"

He sat on the table next to her and she pulled the sheet up around her. He smiled at her modesty for it was so out of character for her. "Most of them are okay, but extremely unhappy. Green Arrow is gone already, saying something about getting drunk with Arsenal. Chris is in another room with Jill…"

"I wonder if she got to take off his clothes," Huntress added with sarcasm. "I mean, it seems like the going thing…undressing the helpless."

Nightwing ignored the jab at his honor. "Batman is gone, though; he and Jill got Man-Bat out of the facility before it exploded…"

"Exploded? Christ, is it safe to breathe the air?" she asked, suddenly concerned. She had fears of becoming one of the walking dead.

"I guess so; Batman said it should be safe enough. Umbrella was trying to destroy evidence, not throw it up into the sky for everyone to see." He sighed. "Man-Bat got away, though. Jill said the second they were outside in the open air he turned on the super-strength and was gone."

"Is he looking for him?"

Nightwing snorted. "No, that job goes to me and you when you're ready. Batman is pretty sure Man-Bat is not infected with anything…"

"Oh, great, a giant man-sized bat, something so normal finally!" She pinched the bridge of her nose. "I can't get the image of Perot out of my head," she said before laying her head on Nightwing's shoulder.

"Careful, Helena, you're showing emotion," he chided her. 

She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for saving my life, hero-man," she whispered. 

"That's what friends are for," he told her. She seemed to blush at the comment and he understood that she probably didn't consider too many people, especially former lovers, as friends. He didn't say anything else and they simply sat there for most of the night.

_Somebody has made a big mistake._

_Years ago, I made a vow to protect this city and the people that have chosen to live here. I could not save my parents, I was not strong enough at the time to prevent their murders, but I'm not the same little boy that I was then. I'm a man now._

_A Batman._

_Gotham City has its secrets, my existence being one of them. Go to one of the other major cities, Metropolis, New York, Keystone City, and mention the "Batman" and they'll snicker. I'm an urban myth like the alligators in the sewers. Even my membership in the Justice League is constantly called into question, but that suits my needs just fine._

_Yes, to the outside world and I am impossible to conceive. Now I know how the common man feels because the facility that Umbrella set up here in MY city is simply too much for me to comprehend. I've seen my share of death and I've dealt with the worst kind of madman on a nightly basis for well over a decade. Once you start trying to play God, however, when you can say that you've not only defeated death, but subjugated it, bent it to your will, you've crossed the line into pure evil._

_Evil has many forms, it wears a variety of masks in the play of life, but I never would have conceived of the depravity I have borne witness to this night. My friends and comrades have been hurt; good cops are on the run because they WANT to enforce the law and a tortured soul has been made the catalyst of a terrible reaction. _

_I look out onto my city and realize that there is a cancer growing in it. Before I thought Gotham City was simply sick and I was working on a cure. Now I realize it is diseased and a part of it must be cut out to ensure that it does not whither and die._

_The destruction of the Petro site was complete; any and all evidence that would have proven what was going on there is now ash. Agents from every federal agency are even now trampling on any clue and even I would have a hard time slipping in. My appearance would probably not bode well for Jim either._

_I tried to track down the CEO of the site, but he has already flown out of town, most likely spirited away by the mysterious Vandross, someone else I have to investigate. More viruses threatening the health of my world._

_The Bat-Signal now hangs in a sky filled with black smoke, a dark shroud covering the emblem of justice. It's fitting for today justice is being buried under the lies of a company called Umbrella._

Felix straightened his tie as he waited in the waiting room outside the meeting room. In a corner of the room, Vandross was busy picking his nails with a long black knife. Felix did not bother to make conversation with him because he could already guess that they had nothing in common. Vandross was a man of action while Felix was a man of administration. They were archetypes that fed off of each other and that was fine with him.

The door opened and a pretty blonde secretary, who was more plastic than flesh with a porn star smile, welcomed them. She then told them it was time to answer. Vandross slid the knife back into a sheath on his belt and then followed Felix in. 

The board of directors for Umbrella Corporation was seated at a long table with the lights behind them. There were only silhouettes to greet the two men as they entered. A faceless man waved an arm for the blonde to shut the door and once the lock clicked, the board wasted no time in beginning their inquisition.

"Mr. Vandross, you may step back," a female voice said. "We have no questions for you." Vandross chuckled and stepped back, but Felix wasn't worried. Lesser men would be in fear of their careers, even their lives, but Felix knew he hadn't screwed up. The grilling was just a matter of form.

"You were responsible for ensuring that the Gotham Protocol was initiated and fulfilled," a voice called out.

Felix smiled. "And I did; certainly it took longer than anticipated and was perhaps a little more messy, but compared to many other operations recently carried out, it was a resounding success."

The figures leaned into each other and whispered. One on the far end leaned forward. "You got the heroes involved."

"What? Batman?" Felix scoffed at the idea. "A lunatic in leather…"

"And he brought the renegade S.T.A.R.s with him!" another figure exclaimed, smashing a fist down. One of the others laid a hand on his shoulder. He seemed to calm down. "Redfield and Valentine of all people!"

"And it was only a matter of time before they resurfaced," he replied, his tone indicating that he thought that it had been obvious. "They will dog us until we can kill them." He turned his head to regard Vandross. "Seems to me your hired gun didn't do his job."

"The facility was destroyed and the appropriate witnesses were eliminated," the figure in the middle said calmly. The other figures seemed to tense up when he spoke, their body language indicating that they were surprised he had spoken. "We are not here to discuss Mr. Vandross; we are here to discuss you."

Felix suppressed a shiver and gulped air. "I'm sorry, sir, I just…"

"You just need to answer our questions." The man leaned back and lit a cigar. "Give us your report."

Felix squeezed his hands into fists to calm down. "The project was a success. We were able to mutate the T-Virus so that it provided effects similar to the Man-Bat condition. Most of the samples were destroyed in the protocol, but the master samples are already on their way to our Pacific facility." He took a deep breath. "All personnel issues were taken care of according to the guidelines of the protocol."

"We lost Perot," someone said.

"Regrettable, but he killed himself. He used our technology to dispose of a lover, very messy."

"He also turned us in to the hero Nightwing," Vandross added. "It very well could have violated the protocol." There were murmurs of agreement.

Felix snatched opportunity. "I take full responsibility for that; it was my security that should have dealt with him." It seemed to impress some of the board members. Too many times the buck got passed around. "I have dealt with that issue as well with Mr. Vandross' aid."

"Excellent," the center figure said. 

"Yes, most excellent, indeed," a new voice called out from the darkest reaches of the office. A figure stepped forward and into the light. He was dressed in European fashion, complete with a cane topped with a devil's head. He wore his beard short and it was streaked with white. His most amazing feature was his eyes, however; they were cold, omniscient orbs. 

When he spoke, his accent was heavy, but Felix could not place the country of origin for it. "You have tied up all of the loose ends, then?"

Alarm bells went off in Felix's skull with the question. His first instinct was to answer yes, but he held off and decided to play it safe. "Except for the Batman. He knows too much."

The stranger laughed. "The Detective will always know 'too much', and it is something you have to plan for. Now that he is involved, operations in Gotham City will be near impossible to continue."

"Yes, well mister…I'm sorry, I didn't get the name," Felix said, trying to get control again.

"Al Ghul. Ra's Al Ghul. Remember the name, because it is the name of your destiny." Ra's stepped closer to Felix and the Umbrella man had to will himself not to shrink away. Al Ghul's presence was palatable. "The goals of Umbrella and myself are the same. You have the technology and I have the vision." 

Ra's began to circle Felix, his cane tapping on the tile floor as he stepped. "Gotham City is the perfect place to continue our work. It is the last place any of them, be they renegade S.T.A.R.s or Caped Crusaders, would think we would start work again."

Felix saw his dreams of South Seas islands and young island men beginning to disappear. "The Man-Bat variant virus is impressive, but it is not enough," Ra's continued. 

"But…"

"Silence!" Ra's said, slapping the floor with his cane. "Your skills are required and you will either perform or you will die." Felix's jaw dropped; nobody was ever quite that literal in one of these meetings. I allowed for plausible deniability. "I am not a man to be taken lightly. I have invested more money and resources into Umbrella than you can possibly imagine, you morality-impaired primate!"

The center speaker chuckled. "You will provide our new partner with all of the support he requires. You will begin a new facility that is to be up and running in six months and compile a new protocol." He held out a folder that Felix quickly moved to get, so long as he was able to put some distance between himself and the fearsome Ra's Al Ghul.

Felix took the folder and opened it. His eyes strained to read the pages inside with the dim light. "My God…" he whispered.

"Yes," Ra's said with a smile. "We will be taking the T-Virus to the next level."

There was a dramatic pause. "Reanimating the dead regardless of time. And I know exactly the first two corpses we are going to test."

"I'm afraid I do not understand your explanation," President Luthor said, handing the glass of whiskey over. The lobbyist on the payroll of Umbrella accepted it with a polite smile. In the shadows, the president's personal Secret Service agent remained impassive. He had been personally chosen for his assignment by the president because of his willingness to take orders no matter what.

His silence in anything said here was assured. And if it wasn't, Lex Luthor had ways of dealing with that as well. "Eco-terrorists…who would have known?"

The president merely smiled and nodded. He, of course, knew differently, knew that Umbrella had been trying to cover something up, but he hadn't yet been able to figure out what. He hoped to bribe the lobbyist into telling him, a sort of reversal of roles, but the other man simply wasn't giving.

"I have the Department of Homeland Security looking into the matter; such a shame. But it seems that your benefactors have attracted some unwanted attention," Lex replied. "I certainly hope that I won't find out that one of the country's leading defense contractors hasn't been doing anything to overly anger our animal-activist friends."

"I assure you, Mr. President, that Umbrella Corporation is not doing anything that your own company, LexCorp, has not done in the past." Lex got the message, though he wanted to shoot the messenger. Umbrella was not going to divulge what it was doing, but it was going to make sure it cleaned up its messes as well.

He sighed and allowed the lobbyist to continue rambling on, letting him believe that he was pulling the wool over the president's eyes. An hour later, he had several Secret Service agents escort the man out of the White House. He made a small note to have the man killed in a day or so, just to send a message to his "friends" at Umbrella.

If they wanted to tell him to piss off, they needed to do it in person.

He prepared to turn in for the night, taking only a passing glance at the preliminary reports on the Gotham City incident. Every federal law enforcement agency in the country had representatives there and the body count was finally evening out at around 200. Luthor's own people from a special branch of LexCorp confirmed that many of the bodies had irregularities that could not be immediately explained.

That had peaked the president's interest. His best advisors had told him that Umbrella may have been testing biological weapons and something went wrong. The stated that the prudent thing to do was to destroy the entire complex and kill all of the witnesses. It was exactly what LexCorp had done in the past.

For some reason, Lex couldn't shake the feeling that Umbrella was not done with Gotham City and while he had faith that the Batman would be a pain in their ass, he preferred to have his own people on the ground. People who were loyal to an ideal because they always made the perfect sacrifices in the end.

He dropped the folder onto his desk, next to the papers ordering the transfer of the Metropolis S.T.A.R.s to Gotham City.


	16. Chapter 16

Batman/Resident Evil: The Gotham Protocol

Chapter 16

By: Christopher W. Blaine

e-mail: darth_yoshi@yahoo.com

DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil™ is a registered product of Capcom Inc./Batman™ is a registered product of DC Comics Inc. Neither of these properties is used here with permission. This original story idea is ©2003 by Christopher W. Blaine.

"We've reviewed your report, Batman," Superman started as the meeting of the Justice League of America came to order after a two-hour recess. The Man of Steel was the acting chair for the gathering, a formal inquiry into a request for intervention made by the Batman. The Caped Crusader, never considered a team player, was not present at the Watchtower, the League's headquarters on the moon.

Instead, the Batman attended the meeting via video monitor from his secure location in the Batcave. The fact that he had officially petitioned the team to look into the Umbrella matter was startling and had been the cause for very serious debate among the members Superman had gathered. The last time Batman had done this, the League had refused him and he had quit, going on to form the Outsiders.

"And?" Batman asked, drumming his fingers on the table in front of him.

The Flash and Plastic Man were shifting uncomfortably in their seats as Superman detailed the League's decision. "We believe you in that you say Umbrella Corporation is most likely up to no good, perhaps even performing the experiments you say they are."

"We believe you, Batman," Wonder Woman added, "in that we mean we believe that you believe it."

Superman nodded, silently thanking the Amazon for the clarification. "You have brought forth no proof other than your statement…"

"Which should be enough," Batman quipped.

"Except it has to be verified by another member in good standing," the Flash said. "No offense, Bats, but a statement by the Huntress, who you got kicked off the League, and one by Green Arrow, a member who quit and never reactivated his reserve status."

"And the statements of Nightwing and Arsenal?"

"Very credible, but you back them up with statements provided by persons wanted on federal charges," Superman said. He leaned into the monitor. "Bring these S.T.A.R.s agents here to the Watchtower and let us interview them."

Batman shook his head. "No, because under the League charter you would still have to turn them in. Their lives would be in danger."

"Are you saying that the entire federal government is corrupt?" Superman asked.

Batman snorted. "Lex Luthor is the president of the United States and you're asking a stupid question like that? I know you, Superman, you honor a deal with the devil if you gave your word and…"

"We've all sworn to uphold the laws of the United States," Wonder Woman reminded him. Batman briefly wondered how she had voted on the matter. He could, of course, check the official ballots, but it would not do any good. The final decision was all that mattered.

It had been a long shot at best, trying to get the League involved, but even the Caped Crusader had to admit his story was light on the evidence. The feds had picked the Petro site clean of anything useful and no doubt in a hanger somewhere; agents of various agencies were in pissing matches over jurisdiction. He would never get to the evidence before it was contaminated.

And the statements of Chris, Jill and Rebecca were really no good. There were federal warrants out for their arrests on charges of terrorism, murder and many other despicable crimes. Batman truly believed they were innocent; he had witnessed first hand their dedication to the serving the people as they laid their own lives on the lone to protect those who would lock them away forever.

Green Arrow, though friendly with the League, did have a tendency to see a conspiracy in everything and the committee had surely taken that into account. And the Flash was right about the Huntress; how many times had Batman been the one to discount anything she said because of her past?

"Do you have anything we can use, Batman?" Superman asked in a pleading voice. He knew that the Kryptonian wanted to help him, but that the League charter tied his hands. They could not willfully ignore a federal warrant without substantial proof.

At least he knew the League would not be dumb enough to try to come to Gotham City to get the renegade agents. That could prove a costly mistake. "I guess in this day and age, my word isn't enough. I remember a time when League members trusted each other."

Superman made to respond, but Batman disconnected the video link and turned in his swivel chair. Off to the right, out of camera range, the three S.T.A.R.s agents stood with disgusted expressions. Chris rubbed the back of his head, letting his hand drop to Rebecca's shoulder. Of the three, she had been the one most hopeful that the Justice League would come to their aid.

Batgirl and Nightwing were seated several feet away at one of the Batcave's worktable, making some adjustments to her utility belt. Batgirl had received a clean bill of health from Doc Thompkins and a subsequent analysis of her blood by S.T.A.R. labs turned up abnormalities, but they had yet to completely identify them.

According to Rebecca, Batgirl's life, her diet and many other factors, possibly even genetics, had gone into the cocktail in her system that had beat back the effects of the T-Virus. She had even gone on tot state she would not be surprised to discover that Batgirl was completely immune to the zombie-creating virus.

"He's Superman," Rebecca said quietly and Chris was afraid she was going to start to cry. "I mean, if Superman doesn't believe us, who will?'

"It isn't that simple, 'Becca," Jill said as she nervously played with her beret. "They're cops, too, except on a global scale. They can't make a judgment call without proof; we wouldn't."

Chris agreed. "Well, at least they listened. Batman," Chris started. "Do you think if we were to get the evidence we need, that the League will help?"

Batman wanted to tell him that he was correct, but the truth was probably that Superman would refer it to some other agency. Superman was of the opinion that the purpose of the JLA was to combat only those things that threatened to destroy the entire world. Batman was the complete opposite; he wanted to use the League to bring overwhelming force against any and all criminals.

In order to have the team not become the personal tool of either hero, committee members like Wonder Woman and the Flash had to walk a thin line. At worst, there would be never enough evidence to convince enough League members to get involved with Umbrella. At best, there would be enough for Superman to have a one-on-one with President Luthor.

For all of the good it would do.

"Let's get the evidence first," Batman said as he stood up. "Or I should say, you need to get the evidence, first." He walked over to the worktable with Batgirl and Nightwing. 

Nightwing cleared his throat after Batman glanced at him. "We've established a series of safe houses for you in some of the major cities: Metropolis, Bludhaven, Keystone City, Midway City and New York." He tossed Chris a Palm Pilot computer. "You can use them once, for as long as you want, but after you leave, we'll be selling them in order to cover your tracks."

"So, we're being sent out on our own?" Chris asked, his tone perturbed.

Nightwing nodded. "It's the only way that makes sense. You are the experts on this; you've proven that. You tried to warn us about what we would face and we didn't exactly believe you."

"Plus, we still have responsibilities here," Batgirl added. "We cannot simply drop what we are doing to pursue Umbrella. We have taken oaths to protect the people of Gotham." She then glanced at Nightwing. "And Bludhaven."

"We also have to recapture Man-Bat," Batman reminded them. "At least to prevent them from using him again in their weapons program." Batman then told them to follow him as he headed towards the vehicle bay. They stopped in front of the black van that had transported them to the Petro Chemical site. Batman tossed a set of keys and Jill caught them. Chris grinned at her.

Rebecca clapped and ran to the driver's side. "I've got shotgun when we leave!" she called. Chris watched her and again was briefly reminded of his younger sister. He turned back to Batman as Jill was giving him a hug. He almost laughed as the Caped Crusader seemed slightly embarrassed, but no more than any cop would be after saving someone.

Their adventure had put a bond between all of them, Chris decided. Maybe super-heroes weren't so bad he reasoned. Certainly they were brave, especially when you considered how they limited themselves. No cop in his right mind would ever tie themselves down with some ridiculous moral code like never taking a life. In law enforcement, hesitation to use lethal force meant death. 

Yet, these brave souls in long underwear were out there every day and night, tackling the problems that normal law enforcement could not afford to deal with. Chris decided between punks, Umbrella and the local insane asylum, Gotham City had more than enough evil to spread around.

Chris held out his hand to Batman. Batman paused, looked down at it, and then slowly took it. "If you guys run into any more zombies," Chris started.

"We will contact you," Batman said. "However, don't come back into Gotham without first letting Oracle know. This is my city."

Chris decided that arguing would solve nothing. Batman had earned the right to call Gotham City his own. "Fine. We'll try to keep you posted on what we find so you can keep your computer files updated. Just in case." Batman slowly nodded and it dawned on him that he might be looking at the young agent for the very last time. 

Chris, Jill, Rebecca and all of the other S.T.A.R.s that were wise to Umbrella's work were all putting their lives in jeopardy. Who knew what kind of operations were going on in different cities across the world? The sting of the League's failure to involve itself became a little hotter as Batman considered it. What could he do about it, though? He quit once and formed the Outsiders, but the world was a much bigger place than he liked to admit and the resources that the League provided him were simply to valuable to let go because of pride. 

Batman was confident that in the long run, evidence of Umbrella's activities would be uncovered and then the League would have no choice but to act. Nightwing and Batgirl both then walked up and several more good-byes, as well as e-mail addresses were exchanged. Then Batman had the three agents blindfolded so Nightwing could drive them out of the Cave and safely away.

After they were gone, Batman looked down at Batgirl, who was smiling. "And why are you so happy?"

She shrugged. "We all survived. That is a good thing. Even Helena pulled through."

"But, you forget about all of the people who died," Batman reminded her, "because we failed to stop Umbrella earlier."

"It is hard to stop what you don't know about, Batman," she told him as they began to walk back into the cave. Her spirits were definitely up, but Batman could hardly blame her. She had, literally, cheated death. Again. "Yes, people are dead and that is a tragedy. But, we stopped it from happening…"

Batman stopped. "No. They had already done their evil and were simply walking away. The excuse about not stopping what you don't know doesn't cut it in this business, Batgirl. We have no choice; we must stop it before it happens."

Batgirl nodded, a sobering look on her face and Batman regretted his harshness. This wasn't Nightwing or even Robin, but a young girl who only learned to express herself with words recently. She turned away to go back to the workbench and he wanted to call her back and explain his reasoning a little better, less angrily.

Then he thought about all of those corpses. All of the senseless death. The misery. The pain. The horror.

Maybe he needed to be harsh. Maybe it was the only way to survive.

End


End file.
